


Draco Malfoy and All the Right Choices

by darkgaaraluver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cedric Diggory Dies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Occlumency, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Draco Malfoy, Panic Attacks, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Slow Burn, Stalking, Torture, Veritaserum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22245352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkgaaraluver/pseuds/darkgaaraluver
Summary: What if Cedric's death shook Malfoy into examining his life and choices? What if the looking moved him to doing something about it? What kind of path would a Draco looking toward his future take?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 108
Kudos: 412





	1. It Is Our Choices

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted a Draco joins the DA fic. Like. Really terribly badly. I know I should be writing other things, but when the motivation hits you you have to take it by the horns I guess. I have this whole year planned out (a five page outline, oh merlin) so this will be a long one probably. I don't know all of what's going in here yet though really so tags are subject to change and be added to. Let me know if you have a suggestion.

It wasn’t as if Draco cared one bit about Cedric Diggory. He barely knew the prat. In fact, if he hadn’t been made a champion that year he would have been a barely recognized face from Quidditch. Just another player that wasn’t as good as Potter. 

But sitting on his bed in his dorm that night Draco couldn’t get the sight of his dead body out of his mind. He’d never seen a dead body before. 

Remembering Potter clinging onto Diggory in a panic made Draco’s face twist up in a vague horror he couldn’t really place. In all the years they'd been at Hogwarts, through all the things Potter seemed to get involved with, from the Philosopher's stone nonsense in first year, the heir of Slytherin debacle, to the dementors and Sirius Black, hell, even facing down a _dragon_ Potter had never looked like _that._

With an expression like that, Draco was willing to believe whatever it was Potter would end up telling them happened. There were already rumors flying around the school that Potter had said that Voldemort had returned. Draco hadn’t gotten anywhere near close enough to hear. He’d seen Potter and frozen. He was lucky Pansy was next to him and managed to pull him away and back up to the castle. 

Draco fiddled with his wand, staring at it, but not seeing it. He thought that if Voldemort did come back he’d be happy. His father certainly would be. It was a chance for the Malfoy family to rise in prestige. 

But everytime Draco tried to tap into those thoughts, to make himself feel happy about anything, he just saw Potter’s screaming face. It made bile rise up the back of his throat. What horrible things had the Dark Lord done to Potter? He couldn’t even think about his father being there without wanting to puke.

He didn’t know what to feel, what to think. Already it was hard to reconcile the horror he felt with the excited murmurs from certain other Slytherins. His fist tightened around his wand, a couple of green sparks shooting out the end. Everything had only just happened. He still had a little over a week before he went home for the summer. He’d observe for now. He’d decide at the closing feast what role he had to play this time. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Keeping an eye on Potter and the golden trio wasn’t a new hobby of Draco’s by any means, not that he would ever admit that, but what was new was the way Potter was pulling away. This -- more than anything else Draco saw -- worried him. Even when Potter had no one, when Draco or circumstances had him pitted against the rest of the school, he had his two friends. 

It filled Draco with a low simmering hatred. They were clearly trying, but nothing they seemed to do helped. He hated it because it filled his head with familiar what-if’s that he had no time or energy to be thinking about now when he was meant to be coming to some sort of decision. 

If he’d been friends with Potter would he be able to do a better job? If Harry- if Potter had taken his hand first year? He liked to think he’d at least be doing a better job than the Weasel. He almost didn’t believe it when he’d left Potter’s side in the beginning of the year, leaving a perfect opening for Draco to set the school against Potter. 

Worse than watching Potter with his friends, though, was watching him when he was alone. He’d just go and sit by the lake staring at nothing for hours, or wander around not looking where he was going. Once they’d even bumped shoulders and Potter had only given him a bleary look when Draco had snapped at him.

Thinking of the empty green eyes that were usually filled with an angry fire sent a shiver down Draco’s spine, and even starred in at least one nightmare.

All Draco wanted to do was shove him around until he started fighting back. Until Potter finally looked at him again, with eyes that pierced his soul.

Actually doing that though would be tantamount to suicide at this point. Everyone not in Potter’s immediate entourage was giving Potter a wide berth. Mostly out of respect, for both Potter and Dumbledore, who had asked the school to do so before Potter got out of the hospital wing, but also because anyone who didn’t found themselves on the wrong side of far too many Weasleys. A seventh year Slytherin had ended up in a bad spot courtesy of the twins that was so bad it scared off most of his house, and a misguided Hufflepuff had gotten a bad bat-bogey hex from the Weaslette. 

The teachers were also watching. They seemed to have doubled in number since the end of the tournament, the teachers who never left their rooms being dragged out by Dumbledore to help keep an eye on the students. 

The one teacher Draco may have wanted to talk to was gone before he’d even come down to breakfast the day after despite this. The only person he might have trusted to talk about his feelings with, giving Draco a sour feeling. He could think of very few reasons why Professor Snape, his Uncle Severus, would leave now of all times. 

“Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.”

When Dumbledore spoke those words a rushing sound seemed to fill Draco’s ears. He knew his role now. 

His panic was broken by Greg elbowing him. When he turned to see what he wanted Greg just grunted a low, “You okay?’

Draco hissed back, “Of course I’m okay, you dolt. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Vincent made a low noise in his throat and Draco swallowed. From now on he’d have to be more careful. 

He felt someone’s eyes on him and turned straight toward the Gryffindor table, only to see Potter turning away from him back toward Dumbledore. He hadn’t felt those eyes on him in over a week, and the change sent a shock through his system. He kept his eyes on Potter all through Dumbledore praising him, but it wasn’t until the toast that Potter finally looked back. And there was the fire that Draco craved, that he could feel all the way across the room; as he ignored his goblet to keep eye contact, he barely noticed that all the Slytherins around him had also kept seated for the toast in solidarity. 

Dumbledore’s final words rang in an echoing clang around Draco’s head even as Potter turned away. “Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”

Draco wasn’t sure he’d get that choice. But he knew he could do seldom but remember now. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


He was stopped on his way to the carriages by none other than Professor Snape himself, obviously returned. He grabbed Draco’s elbow just as he was about to exit the main door in the Entrance Hall. Draco nodded at Vincent and Greg to go on and followed Severus off to the side willingly. They both stood not looking at each other, but over at the students. 

Draco was quick to get a word in edgewise before Severus could talk. “Where have you been?”

From the corner of his eye Draco could see the edge of Severus’s mouth turn down in a sneer. “That isn’t any of your concern. You should be worried about yourself.”

Draco frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco swallowed. “Things are looking up for my family aren’t they?”

He could feel Severus’s eyes on him, but he resolutely focused forward. Vincent and Greg had just taken a carriage from some second years and Pansy was shooting him a loaded look over her shoulder as she got in with them. 

Severus sighed. “We can hope I suppose. Have you been practising your Occlumency?”

Draco nodded, suddenly tense. That question boded nothing like good news. “Why? Why ask, when you know I have?”

Severus put a heavy hand on Draco’s shoulder and Draco partially turned to look at him. “It’s a time of great change and upheaval, Draco. Time to make a lot of hard choices. I just want you to be ready to handle those choices.”

Draco looked in Severus’s eyes, even knowing he might use Legilimency on him. He could feel himself trembling under Severus’s hand, and even though he hated himself for it he let his fear -- all the fear and confusion he’d felt since Potter had gotten out of the maze -- shine through to his expression. His voice even had a soft tremble in it when he spoke. “What if I’m not ready to make those choices?”

Severus’s lips thinned and his eyes hardened. “You must be, Draco. Or at least fast approaching there. I’ll help you any way I can, but you must be sure about everything you do now. Every action has a consequence, and in war, those consequences are extreme. Things you will have to live with.”

Draco wasn’t sure if he was remembering it himself or if Severus was indeed rooting through his mind, but the image of Potter flung over Cedric’s body, screaming and crying, Potter’s blank eyes when Draco had run into him, his burning gaze from across the Great Hall, all flashed through his head before he threw up his Occlumency walls. 

He used his Occlumency skills to pull himself back together and put his trusty mask back on. Severus nodded once decisively and dropped his hand. “I might see you over the summer, but even if I don’t, keep practising. No other skill will serve you as well as that one. Go along now.”

Draco nodded and started off toward the carriages. 

There was only one carriage left when Draco reached them. He thought it was empty when he got in, but he was quickly joined by a younger blonde girl. She got in opposite him and stared at him with huge grey eyes. 

He wanted to snap at her, but thought it might be better to ignore her, and looked out the window instead. He didn’t feel like fighting with a stranger all the way to the train. 

The peace didn’t last long though. The girl started a conversation herself. “I’m glad I’m not alone. I thought I would be, you know, I was so late getting in. I was having a lovely time talking to one of the thestrals though, and I didn’t want to leave them. Were you also talking to the thestrals?”

Draco let out a snort against his will. “No, I wasn’t talking to a thestral. Professor Snape wanted a word, not that it’s any of your business. Where did you even run into a thestral in the first place?”

Far from being put off by his tone the girl seemed to light up at getting any sort of response. It made Draco grimace and wish he hadn’t said anything. “They pull the carriages! They were ever so frightful when I first saw them on my way home the first year, but we’ve become good friends now.”

Draco felt a bit like an idiot. It made sense that the carriages were pulled by thestrals. Hardly anybody could see them these days and Hogwarts was known for having the first trained herd. But. “You could see the thestrals your first year?”

The girl hummed. “Yes. My mother died when I was quite young. I suppose you can’t see them then?”

Draco frowned. That meant the girl saw her mother die. He couldn’t imagine that and steeled himself against trying to. “No, I can’t.” Draco paused for a second in contemplation. “It’s weird though. That I can’t. Shouldn’t everyone who watched the third task be able to see them because of Diggory?”

Again the girl did the opposite of what Draco was expecting. He’d spoken his thoughts without thinking about it, lured out by this girl’s impertinent nature, but she didn’t freeze up or freak out at the mention of Diggory, but was instead excited by the idea he’d posed. 

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! I’ve been thinking about that! I think it’s more than just seeing someone die that lets you see them, I think you really have to process it and feel the death to see thestrals.”

Draco sat up straight from where he was leaning against the window to give the girl his full attention. “That’s a good theory. No one’s ever explored that avenue before, I don’t think. I suppose it also helps that no one in the audience saw him actually die either, we just saw his body. Do you think just seeing the body is enough and next year everyone will see them once we’ve had some time, or that we’d have had to see the moment too?”

The girl put her hand up to her mouth and picked at her lip as she thought for a minute. When she spoke it was slow. “I think… It would depend on how close one was with the victim. Harry Potter will be able to see them once he’s processed because he saw the murder, but I think Cho Chang and Mr and Mrs Diggory should see them too now, if they couldn’t before, just from the body.”

Draco leaned forward. “Just from the sheer emotional impact? That’s a brilliant theory. It could tell us quite a lot about thestrals if someone studied that. Very little has been written about them because they’re considered such bad luck.”

The girl nodded rapidly, her large earrings jangling erratically. “Were you close with Diggory?”

Draco smiled for the first time. “No I wasn’t! That means whether I see them or not next year will give some good insight!”

The girl smiled back brightly. “Will you tell me next year? I’d love to talk with you more.”

Draco could feel his face falling back into a neutral mask. “I don’t even know you.”

The girl’s smile didn’t dim. She just held out her hand. “I’m Luna Lovegood. I’m a third year Ravenclaw.”

Draco hesitantly reached out to shake the offered hand. He hadn’t heard of a Lovegood, but Ravenclaws were all right. About the only other house Slytherins talked to. Her hand was cold in his. 

The girl-Lovegood, kept talking through the handshake, ignoring Draco’s hesitation. “I know you, Draco Malfoy. You can call me Luna. Even if you don’t want to talk to me next year you can always send an owl now you know my name. Not many people want to talk to me.”

Draco was about to reply when the carriage slowed to a stop and Luna let go of his hand. 

Luna smiled one more time as she got up to go. “Goodbye Draco.”

Draco sat for a second in a weird daze before he followed her out of the carriage door. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy were all waiting for him. Pansy had a bewildered expression on her face. “You had to share a carriage with Loony Lovegood? Merlin, how did you survive that?”

Draco straightened up and sneered. “Unfortunately it was the only one left. She knew better than to bother me though. Thankfully.”

Pansy rolled her eyes at the situation and hooked her hand through Draco’s elbow. “Come on then, we’re never going to get a compartment to ourselves at this rate.”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


They did manage to secure a compartment. It was easier than Draco had expected, but perhaps, given how everything turned out, several students had left just after the third task. They found one with just Millicent and Theo in it. Pansy was pleased and quickly plopped down next to Millicent. Draco followed after, sitting on their side to avoid getting squeezed in by Vincent and Greg. 

It was nice to see Pansy chatting so avidly with another girl. She was constantly complaining that she was surrounded by too many boys all the time hanging out with him. Pansy and everyone else had taken some getting used to when it came to Millicent. She was one of the rare Slytherin half-bloods, one with a muggle parent no less. She was quick to assure that said muggle parent was out of the picture, and that she disliked muggles as much as the next pureblood, but she still hadn’t grown up in the same pureblood circles. 

It didn’t help her case that she was both not conventionally attractive and soft-spoken. Once she and Pansy had started getting on in second year, though, Pansy was quick to tell everyone she could find that Milli -- as she told everyone to call her, Draco still forgot sometimes -- was excellent in a muggle fight and quite good at transfiguration. From there she had integrated quite well. Always a good one to have on your side, Pansy. 

Theo smirked through a greeting to Draco before turning to talk to Greg in the seat next to him. Draco would never admit it but Theo made him a bit nervous. They grew up in all the same circles, Theo also being a member of the sacred 28, but his father was a bit older than Draco’s. He easily could have been the so-called ‘prince of Slytherin’ had he put in more effort and tried to out-maneuver Draco. Instead he kept to himself, preferring to keep to the edges of Draco’s crowd and spend most of his time in his studies. That unnerved Draco. If Theo challenged him outright he could fight back and then it’d be done, but the way things were, it made Draco expect a knife in his back -- despite having now completed four years with no real problem.

After a couple hours of inane chatting Draco couldn’t stand the cramped compartment anymore. He announced that he was going for a walk down the train and stood up without waiting for anybody to comment. 

He heard Greg and Vincent both scramble up to follow him and had to suppress an annoyed sigh. He couldn’t wait to get home if only so he could have some space to think. 

He hadn’t gone far up the train when he heard an all too familiar voice. He stopped and held up a hand to quiet Vincent and Greg. Hearing Granger talk about Skeeter sent ice flowing through his blood. It didn’t sound like she’d realized she could get pretty much all the Slytherins in trouble for dealing with an unregistered animagus without reporting them. That was good. But what she’d done to Skeeter made Draco simmer in rage. 

  
  


He didn’t really think it through when he barged in. If he had he might not have done it. It was worth it to see Potter and his flashing eyes up close again one last time before the summer. But seeing them in person sent another kind of cold rage flowing through him. How dare they ignore what had happened to Potter and focus on Skeeter of all people. 

And he was worried. He couldn’t help it as it came over him looking at Potter’s friends. This was who he had on his side? These were the people helping him? If Potter had taken his hand he could have had Draco! Draco would have given anything! 

The words were spit out before Draco could rethink them. “You’ve picked the wrong side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around riffraff like this! Too late now, Potter! They’ll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord’s back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well- second- Diggory was the f-”

Draco saw the shock at the words coming out of Draco’s mouth slowly come over Potter’s face the longer he went on. Maybe he could hear the edge of desperation creeping up Draco’s throat. But he also saw when he went too far, Potter’s anger replaced his shock. Draco was far too late to stop himself now though and the next thing he knew was darkness.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pansy and Milli found them when they were getting off and managed to fix the three of them up. When Draco came to, Pansy was white-faced and tight lipped. She kept apologizing for not looking for him sooner the whole way off the train. Apparently Greengrass and Davies had come looking for her, bored of sitting with just Zabini, and it had distracted Pansy from how long he’d been gone. 

Draco made Pansy promise not to tell anyone else. Especially his mother who was alone on the platform. Pansy had agreed and kissed his cheek goodbye. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco wasn’t stupid or lacking in self-awareness, he thought as he stared up at the dark ceiling over his bed, contemplating his attitude on the train. 

He had to face some hard truths in his third year. He knew it was more than the thrill of the rivalry that sent shivers up and down his spine when he managed to get Potter’s full attention. The satisfaction that filled his whole body after making Potter help with his potions ingredients that year was borderline unhealthy. 

He’d thought he hated Potter until then. He really had. But he had to admit that maybe the hate really stemmed from getting denied what he had really wanted for the first time. He’d never wanted to be friends with someone so badly as he had that first year. The want had filled his whole being, and being denied it had sent rage burning through his veins the way it never had before. 

He had never been so bored during the summer following their meeting either. Nothing could seem to interest him the way Potter could. 

He had thought it was temporary at the time, that boredom. But being back at the manor just reminded him of how much it wasn’t temporary. 

Turning over in bed, Draco was able to admit to himself that some of the things he’d done since to get Potter’s attention were a little much. Maybe even immature. Especially faced with a sudden dead body. 

He didn’t know what else to do though. He wondered as he drifted off if he’d ever figure it out.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


While he was gone, he always forgot how lonely the manor was. 

He tried to spend as much time with his parents as he could, especially his mother, as he missed her, missed both of them really, quite a bit while he was gone. Not that he could ever admit it. But his mother had a duty to host several dinner and garden parties with the other ladies of the sacred 28, to stay apprised of the social politics that ran rampant through their circles. 

His father was rarely even home. When he did see him his father seemed to stand taller than he ever had before. Pride in himself seemed to radiate outward from his body. 

Draco was ashamed to admit that he may have avoided coming into direct contact with him more than usual this summer. While he did seem happier than he had of late, he was also much more critical of Draco than usual. 

When Lucius first laid eyes on Draco’s test scores, he immediately noticed his son had once again fallen a spot below Granger in all their classes, and was also below Potter in DADA; the cold look in his father’s eyes almost made Draco fear for his safety for a second. 

Instead he was forced to work on his studies for next year for several hours a day. as if the goal was for him to not need to go back next year. As much as he hated being cooped up inside, it gave him ample time to practice his Occlumency. 

He often studied in the back of their library instead of his room because, besides having more space for spreading out several volumes at once, his father often forgot he was in there so Draco got to listen to several floo calls his father made from the library fireplace, since the library fireplace was the biggest in the manor. 

What he heard made Draco bite his lip and his hands shake. His father seemed to be trying to bribe half the Ministry in a strangely single-minded attempt to obtain an object from them. The longer the summer went on the more desperate he seemed to become. 

He got a few interesting letters from Pansy as well. 

  
  
  


Dear Draco, 

I’m so awfully bored at home without you to amuse me. I was planning on trying my hand at seducing someone wildly inappropriate in an act of teen rebellion while I could, before shit really hit the fan, but my mother has decided that I should start accompanying her to most of her ‘ladies’ tea party’s’ now so I’m a bit hampered for time when it comes to rebelling. I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to our new arrangement anyway were I to be caught, so I guess you should be happy about my boredom. I’ve included your birthday present of the usual expensive chocolates Your Majesty, King Ponce. I better get something good this year for all I did for you last year. And you better write back!

Your beloved,

Pansy

Draco snorted, but was quick to unwrap the chocolates, popping one in his mouth. They always waited until the week before Pansy’s birthday on July 9th to deal with their birthdays, despite Draco’s being two days after the end of term, so they could exchange gifts at the same time. Draco didn’t care, he still got his first. He hummed in satisfaction. He supposed he did owe Pansy a nice birthday gift. 

It was just like Pansy’s mother, rushing Pansy’s official entrance into society. She wasn’t meant to debut officially until next summer, a year before she came of age. She would have a ball to announce that she was eligible to start receiving marriage offers throughout the following year, and meanwhile she was to start showing up to the adult functions to prove what a capable wife she would be. Pansy’s mother had always been anxious about Pansy though, worried she wouldn’t match well, or worse, that she would refuse an arranged marriage at all in the name of rebellion.

If Draco could have spoken to Mrs. Parkinson he would have told her not to worry, that worrying would only make things worse. Pansy was no fool. And also a bit of a coward. She knew what she would need to do and was fully prepared for it. She just liked taking all the advantage she could get away with before settling. She was the last type who would run off with a muggle or what-have-you. She’d told Draco she just wanted a good fortune with an absolutely ridiculous manor so she would only have to tolerate her husband so much. 

Draco often joked that she really wanted to take after Mrs. Zabini and marry wealthy wizards for their money, only to kill them off for her freedom. Pansy just laughed.

Draco could well remember the night they had made their own arrangement. It still filled him with a bit of panicky fear to contemplate. 

It was the early hours of the morning. A couple hours before the rest of the house was due to start waking. Draco had been down in the common room. He was making the buttons for Potter’s debut as champion. He hadn’t noticed the common room emptying many hours ago, or that his hair was now falling in a mess around his face from all the times he’d run his hands through it. He definitely hadn’t noticed he’d started muttering to himself as he flitted around the table the buttons were spread over.

“Got to make them perfect. That’ll show Potter. Can’t wait to spread them around. It will be sure to get Potter’s attention. See him ignore me now!”’

Pansy had crept up behind him. Draco had almost jumped out of his skin when she’d put a hand on his shoulder. 

He’d been unable to get himself together after the mild scare and had given far too much away. Pansy had gotten everything. She found out about his feelings for Potter. 

They’d worked everything out from there. Pansy had pitied him and agreed to help him. She’d pose as his beard essentially until one or the other of them found someone they really wanted. In exchange he promised to offer his hand to Pansy himself should the need arise. If he were still single. 

They both figured it wouldn’t be too bad being married. Draco certainly had the fortune Pansy wanted. And the manor. And Pansy would be free to be with whoever she wanted on the side because Draco wouldn’t care. The act of producing an heir would be awkward, but hopefully brief, and Pansy’s feelings wouldn’t get hurt when Draco never wanted a repeat performance. 

They started the act by going to the Yule Ball together. Draco figured it had been successful. She didn’t whinge about him paying attention to Potter and she didn’t step on his feet when they danced. She’d only rolled her eyes and complied when Draco asked her to move her head slightly so he could get a better view of where Potter was sitting with the Weasel. In thanks, after Potter had left, Draco had let her off to dance with a couple boys from different schools. 

Draco ended up sending her a new pair of expensive dress shoes with a permanent cushioning charm after remembering how she’d ended up barefoot by the end of the Yule Ball with some pretty bad blisters he’d had to make her some dittany for. 

He’s barely been in the library for an hour that day when he got another interesting letter from Pansy. He wasn't sure what to think of it, given how frazzled Pansy’s owl was even though it was still early in the day. He hoped it was nothing too bad and forced his hand not to shake as he opened it.

  
  


Draco, 

Did you hear the news? I hope you haven’t, I would hate for you to hear this from anyone who might tell you over at your place. I heard from my mother at breakfast. Potter’s been temporarily expelled! He was caught doing underaged magic in front of his muggle relatives. The ministry wanted to expel him outright and break his wand, but Dumbledore was only just able to at least get him a trial. It’s set for next week sometime I think. I couldn’t ask for too many details as you know. I’m so sorry Draco! I hope he does okay if only for your sake.

  
  


Love,

Pansy

  
  


Draco took the time to be glad that Pansy was okay, even as his hands started shaking in earnest and his eyes seemed to tunnel into the word ‘expelled’. 

What would he even do at school without Potter? The fact that he didn’t even have a guess, couldn’t even picture it, made his breath come out in short bursts. 

He crinkled the parchment up until it was a ball and squeezed it in both his hands until they stopped shaking. He put his forehead against his hands on the table and tried not to be weak enough to let the tears swimming in his eyes escape.

  
  


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His father told him the news at dinner that night. He was glad Pansy had told him earlier so he could keep his real feelings in a box and smirk at the same news he’d almost cried at earlier that day. He was so glad he was good at Occlumency. 

It really would be his best weapon.

  
  
  


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Draco lived in a state of increasing stress as the days passed before Potter’s trial. He found himself losing all focus on his studies, reading and reading yet not taking anything in. He took to flying over the countryside more and more often in a way he hadn’t previously dared. 

But his father was hardly around to chastise him for his lack of focus and his mother wouldn’t say anything. If anything he thought he saw her shoot him a small smile the last time he’d left. She had said he was looking a bit pale at dinner the night before. 

Only when he was up in the air, though, could he leave his slowly growing fears behind. He’d always loved flying, and being able to fly against Potter only made him more determined to be good at it. Fear and masks were for the ground; up in the sky it was only speed and wind and glorious freedom.

As soon as he landed, though, he would recall what was coming, what he stood to lose. Because his first thought upon landing was always _Potter._ He made himself sick sometimes. Draco couldn’t help it when it came to flying though. Potter was a natural on a broom, an amazing sight to watch. He didn’t think he’d ever been so scared and horny in his life watching Potter fly against a fucking _dragon_ for Merlin’s sake. 

The feeling of flying neck and neck was one of the best memories Draco had of Hogwarts. He would be loath to lose it if Harry- if Potter got expelled. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t Pansy who ended up telling him how the trial went. 

Draco had been sitting in the candlelit dining room with his mother. It was quiet while they ate, his father conspicuously absent. No matter how many meetings he had he usually made time to eat dinner with his family. That fact that he hadn’t on the night after Potter’s trial made Draco think nervously of the Dark Lord. 

He’d been staring at the empty chair at the head of the table with a sheen of sweat coming up on the back of his neck when his mother had broken the silence.

The sound of her putting down her silverware rang loudly in the big empty room. “Draco dear, your father told me some interesting news before he left again this evening.”

Draco’s head turned a bit too quickly towards his mother to be entirely natural looking for casual conversation and he silently cursed himself while he answered in a neutral tone, trying to seem uninterested. “Oh? What was it?”

His mother’s mouth pulled up at one corner briefly before she took a sip of her wine. She made sure to set it firmly back down and dab her mouth with her cloth napkin before she answered. “It seems that Harry Potter is cleared of all his charges of underage magic. Apparently the latest incident was considered self-defense against some Dementors. Dumbledore spoke in his favor of course.”

Draco’s mouth wanted to drop open, but he forced it shut, his lips pursing. He hadn’t heard about the Dementors. It must have been a Patronus he’d done then. He recalled being on the receiving end of that Patronus. It was beautiful and terrifying. He’d been a little honored when he’d found out it was Potter’s first corporeal patronus that had chased him down. After he got over the embarrassment and the scolding from his father. 

Draco cleared his throat. “Who was sending Dementors after Potter? He was in muggle territory wasn’t he?”

It was his mother’s turn to purse her lips in distaste. “Your father knows. He didn’t tell me specifically, but let us say that the Ministry wasn’t terribly surprised by the news.”

Draco put his glass back down on the table without taking a sip. He was surprised. He’d have guessed it was a desperate attack by one of the Death Eaters. That someone at the Ministry was behind it was not good. If Potter didn’t have Ministry backing he was as good as alone in his fight against the Dark Lord. 

Not that Draco should care. 

He pointedly picked his glass back up and took a sip.

He made sure to make eye contact with his mother when he brought up his next question. “Are we sure it wasn’t one of father’s… other, associates?”

His mother actually sighed. It brought Draco up a bit short. He blinked a few times to get over his surprise. “Let us be frank Draco: no beating around the bush when there is war on the horizon. No, Lucius informed me that it wasn’t him nor one of his Death Eater friends. We both know what your father is. We are both going to have to get used to the idea. Again, in my case.”

Shocked, Draco stared at his mother.

She smiled a little at the sight. “You’re growing up darling. I thought Lucius was done with it after the first war, once we had you to raise. But he’s gone back.” His mother’s smile dropped. “He’s gone back. He had little choice this time. He made his bed the last time. Honestly I don’t think he would choose differently even if he could.”

His mother actually reached across the table and grabbed both of Draco’s hands in hers. Her brown eyes burned. “Draco. You don’t have much longer to be a child. You didn’t choose anything, not yet. But, whatever happens I promise I’m going to make sure you get through this. Do you understand?”

Draco was unsettled to feel tears gathering in his eyes under his mother’s look and his voice almost didn’t make its way up his suddenly tight throat; he quietly choked out, “I understand.”

There was a wash of cold magic over his and his mother’s hands. Draco’s eyes widened at the feeling. A spontaneous magical contract. 

Looking from his hands back into his mother’s face told him that she didn’t seem surprised. She nodded firmly and, once the magic had stopped, released his hands to finish eating. 

Draco wasn’t sure he did understand.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


With Draco no longer having to worry about Potter, he turned his focus back to his studying. He sent a few more gossipy letters to Pansy telling her to look out for information involving the Ministry. 

But mostly he worked.

He was determined to make his father proud. With war imminent he might not have many more chances to do it. He could barely remember the last time he’d made his father proud, it was so long ago. He thought it must have been when he’d gotten his Hogwarts letter, five years ago now. Sometimes his father’s kind smile felt like a children’s story he told himself for motivation.

Going into third year, Draco had hoped that he would be able to take at least one class without Granger in it so that he could be top of that class, only to have his hopes dashed and a punch in the face as a cherry on top. Even if he and Granger got exactly the same grade, the teachers always put Granger first because of his father’s animosity toward the headmaster. Uncle Severus was the only one to do otherwise, so he had managed to take the top slot in potions on occasion, but keeping that spot for any amount of time was incredibly difficult, yet his father wasn’t impressed.

This year was also the year he was up for consideration for a prefect’s badge. He grimaced at his book at the thought of what his father would say if he didn’t get it. He was worried Zabini, as the only one of the three real male candidates whose father wasn’t a death eater, might get it. He wasn’t even considering Vincent or Greg. 

The longer it took the new Hogwarts lists to arrive the more nervous Draco got. It was far too late to be able to do anything about whatever decision was made, but doing nothing tightened his throat while a horror rose up in the back of his mind. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


His father was actually at dinner that night. 

Stranger even than that , Lucius seemed to be in a particularly good mood. 

Draco was glad he’d waited until the dessert to tell them why.

His father cleared his throat and straightened in his chair as he addressed his family. Draco was already on edge. It was already the night of August 30th and he still hadn’t gotten his Hogwarts list or news of who the new prefects would be. He was already using Occlumency just to stop himself from hyperventilating. Whatever this was was not going to be good for his stress levels.

“I have some good news to impart. The Ministry has just passed educational decree number 22. This means that in the event the headmaster is unable to find a teacher, the Ministry will choose one for them.” Lucius smirked. “Since Dumbledore is a bumbling fool, he’s been unable to find a new defense teacher.”

Lucius paused as if to allow Draco and Narcissa to process the genius of this. Draco certainly felt his thoughts moving two hundred kilometers an hour. He couldn’t stop himself from asking. “Do you know the person the Ministry chose?”

Lucius smiled so his teeth showed. “Yes, I do know her. A Dolores Umbridge. We’ve worked together quite a bit over the summer.” Lucius turned a sharp look onto Draco. “I expect you to honor that friendship and work hard in her class. If you follow her direction you should have a rewarding year. I don’t want to hear of you going against her, Draco.”

Draco swallowed his feelings and gave a sharp nod. “Yes, sir.”

He thought he caught a hint of worry in his mother’s eyes across the table, before she turned a congratulatory smile onto her husband. 

Draco was quick to excuse himself.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco practically fell over himself when a Hogwarts owl flew into the library the next morning. 

When a green badge fell out of the envelope with a clatter he practically threw his list of supplies across the table. It captured all of his attention where it glittered on his parchment. Draco felt like looking at it let him breathe for the first time all summer. 

He picked it up and pinned it to his shirt. He didn’t think he’d ever take it off

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When his mother saw it during their shopping trip after lunch, she’d beamed at him, and offered him a rare hug. Draco was quick to accept. 

When his father saw that night at dinner he gave a nod and a perfunctory, “Ah, of course.”

So at least Draco knew he hadn’t failed him entirely. He only picked at his dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t until he was lying in bed that night, his last night at home until the winter holidays, that the responsibility he would hold with his badge really hit him. 

He could have some real power with this. He could DO something. 

He could keep an eye on Potter.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE THANKS to my new beta FerchKalvaNiibi on AO3!


	2. The Emotional Range of a Teaspoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco stalks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad I got this done before I left for my girlfriend's for the long weekend! Be a little bit til the next chapter, but this outline I did is really helping! Once again let me know what you think!
> 
> edit: Shout out to my new beta FerchKalvaNiibi on AO3!

Draco was a little surprised to find that Granger and the Weasel were also prefects, although after thinking it through it made a kind of sense. There was no way _Granger_ wasn’t going to be anyway. Although he thought there were several good male candidates. Maybe Thomas. Hell, if Dumbledore and Mcgonagall wanted to give him some confidence, Longbottom would be an all right choice really. 

Just so long as it wasn’t _Potter_. Merlin, if it was Potter Draco would never be able to concentrate. 

As it was he was quite happy that he had Pansy as his prefect partner. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, no one had the Slytherin house by the balls quite as well as Pansy. Davies had relatives in Ravenclaw house and was seen as having split loyalties. Greengrass was a nice enough pureblood girl, but a little too quiet. Milli stood no chance, unfortunately for her. No matter how her reputation had grown since second year, Slytherin couldn’t be seen to have a half-blood prefect: even if they could intimidate the younger years, they would never get the respect of the older students.

Pansy kept him great company, joining him in scowling at the new Gryffindor prefects and not saying a word when Draco followed them past his own reserved compartment to see where the last third of the golden trio was sitting. 

He still wasn’t sure what to do about everything. But a prudent Malfoy was one who kept their options open and Potter was the key to most of his, so it could hardly hurt to make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. 

Catching sight of Lovegood- Luna, through the window was a bit of a shock, but mostly it served to remind Draco to keep track of the thestrals this time. There was no way he could talk to her in person though, if she was that closely associated with the Golden Boy. Not even Pansy would let him live that down. He’d have to send her a letter after all, he contemplated as he turned himself and Pansy around, pushing to the side a couple of first years that had been behind them.

He was bewildered to see that Zabini was in his compartment with Vincent and Greg. He usually chose to sit in a different compartment than Draco. He tried not to let it bother him, but he took one look at the seating arrangements, Zabini on one window seat with Greg sitting by the door on one side and Vincent by the door on the other, and decided he didn’t like it.

He turned to Vincent. “The Mudblood and the Weasel are both prefects this year. You should go sit in the other Slytherin fifth year compartment. We should be on guard from attacks from Weasel at the very least. I can’t be everywhere.”

For a second Draco wondered if now would be the time Vincent fought back, but he only gave a sharp nod and lumbered out past Draco to go find the other compartment. Draco motioned Pansy to take the window seat and Draco laid down with his head in Pansy’s lap. 

She flicked him on the ear discreetly, but ran her fingers through his hair anyway. Draco only just stopped himself from humming. 

When Draco looked at the seat across from him he found Zabini raising an eyebrow at him, Draco only shrugged one shoulder at him in response. It wasn’t Draco’s fault the obvious solution to worrying about a Gryffindor prefect attack was to have a prefect in each compartment. If Vincent had a problem with Draco’s ‘solution’ he would have said something.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco managed to keep a good track of Potter and pals as they all got off the train. He even managed to get those green eyes turned his way. The first look after the holidays was always the sweetest. 

What he wasn’t getting a good look at, though, was the thestrals. 

It seemed Potter was though -- he seemed much too distracted for it to be anything else. Luna was still with him too, maybe he could get confirmation from her? He was glad to see that she was smart enough to not pay him any mind when she saw him. He was half worried she’d wave at him or something. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


This Umbridge woman was a lark. 

He could see why his father might get on with her. She thought she could do what his father had been trying to do for years now and get one over on Dumbledore. Frankly he’d like to see her try. He couldn’t see how the Ministry could think this would work.

But he could see how this would discredit Potter. Draco’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Having someone so obviously sent by the Ministry and so obviously against Dumbledore, and by extension, Potter, on the staff overlooking the children made it hard to be wishy-washy about things. It set up an us-or-them sort of dichotomy that children of Ministry employees would be hard-pressed to fight against. 

The Ministry employed more people than any other single establishment. Getting the children of these employees on one side was no small victory. Potter would find himself outnumbered, no matter how unpopular Umbridge seemed right then. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Once Draco was ensconced in his bed again down in the dungeons, he could no longer put off his desire to write to Lovegood about the thestrals.

  
  


Lovegood,

I regret to inform you that due to the current political climate it is unsafe to converse with you in person. However, I find that I still wish to speak with you, and so do formally invite you into a correspondence. About which topic we’ve previously spoken, I find that I still cannot see the thestrals. Have you found out whether Chang or the Diggorys can?

Yours,

Draco Malfoy

Draco bit his lip and read it over several times. He completely rewrote it twice. He hadn’t made a new… friend he supposed, in years, and wasn’t sure how to talk to anyone he hadn’t been talking to for forever already, much less someone he had only had the one conversation with and had to break the news to that he could never talk to them in person. 

Eventually he called it good and noxed his lights. Either she would take it well or she wouldn’t. Hopefully she had been able to get information about fellow Ravenclaw Chang, at the very least.

Eventually Draco drifted off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was only the first day of term and already Potter was making trouble for himself. Draco couldn’t even eat dinner because he was _furious._ Potter had made things a hundred times worse for himself getting detention on the very first day by out-and-out _arguing_ with a professor!

Draco was even angrier because he had to act _amused_. 

Oh if Potter wanted to fight someone, Draco was more than willing to volunteer! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Breakfast the next morning an owl with a note and a package managed to pierce through Draco’s angry fog. Draco was surprised but pleased to see that it was from Luna. 

  
  


Draco,

Thank you ever so much for your letter! I don’t mind speaking like this, but it’s a little slow and I thought maybe getting strange letters regularly might be a bit suspicious. So I’ve charmed a couple of notebooks so we can talk to each other instantly through them! I wouldn’t want our letters to be stolen by an Umgubular Slashkilter! (The Ministry is rumored to have several) But I only write my friends you see. 

Your Friend,

Luna

Draco couldn’t help the smile he felt spread across his face at the letter as he put both the letter and the unopened package in his school bag. 

When he looked back up he saw Pansy with a crease on her forehead and a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth. 

Draco snorted. “Oh, that’s attractive, you’ll get some real good proposals with that face.”

Pansy ripped off her piece of toast and chewed and swallowed. Her voice was still cloudy with sleep. “Piss off. No one but us is up this bloody early. If you’re going to drag me out of bed you can deal with some questionable facial expressions. Besides, your snorting is just sooo attractive is it?”

Draco rolled his eyes and went back to his own breakfast, more able to eat now than he had been last night. 

Pansy didn’t let up though. “Who was that from to get you smiling so early in the morning anyway? Your mom?”

Draco sat up straighter on the bench and looked down his nose at Pansy. “It was. She sent along a book I’d forgotten.”

Pansy sneered. “I’m surprised Your Magnificence forgot anything.”

Draco flipped her two fingers. “Now you can piss off.”

Pansy smiled and returned the gesture. 

Draco allowed himself to smile a bit back. “Which area do you want tonight anyway? The seventh floor or around Umbridge’s office?”

Pansy’s smile quickly dropped. “Ugh. I forgot you mentioned that last night. I don’t see why you see fit to up your stalking. Or why I have to help. You can’t do anything to help him you know. If you did you’d risk getting disinherited, or worse, frankly.”

Draco focused on his plate to avoid Pansy’s direct eye contact. His voice came out quieter than it had been previously. “You know why Pansy. Besides it’s good to keep one’s options open in case of emergency. An escape plan, if you will.”

Pansy reached over the table to Draco’s hand holding his fork. “All it’s going to do is make you see something you wish you hadn’t. Or, Merlin forbid, something that finally tips you into doing something really stupid and dragging me with you.”

Draco swallowed hard and gently shook Pansy’s hand off. “Probably. But someone should keep an eye out.”

Pansy groaned and Draco looked up, smiling. His smile fell away when he met the eyes of Blaise Zabini just down the table from them. Zabini smirked at him and gave him a two finger salute before going back to his breakfast. 

Draco wondered how much he’d heard.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

  
  


So Draco watched and bided his time. He could see Potter getting more and more angry at the world and Umbridge and her poor teaching and lies. It wasn’t the good look Draco thought it might be. It made him unreasonably worried. 

He’d yet to catch Potter after one of his detentions no matter where he took his patrol. It made panic climb the back of his throat to think about, so he tried to focus on other things. It’s not like Umbridge could get away with _torturing_ him, and anything short of _that,_ Potter was more than equipped to deal with. 

Because Potter always looked ready to fly off the handle, Draco contributed only a minimal effort to maintain their rivalry. Give a detention there, take some points here, just the usual things to be expected from his new position really. The other Slytherin prefects didn’t care much that he’d been slacking a bit when it came to watching the first years, as usually the seventh year prefects liked doing this to increase their final bit of influence; also, that first week when nobody wanted it Draco had volunteered for patrol every night. And half those patrols approached Gryffindor tower.

That particular tower was especially dangerous for Slytherins, even if it was a prime spot for catching a misbehaving Gryffindor. Gryffindors tended to run in packs and a lone Slytherin Prefect was always a good target. 

The only thing that stopped him from worrying over the state of affairs recently was his new penpal. It turned out that Chang _could_ see the thestrals now, which was frankly a bit baffling but also extremely good insight into how thestrals worked. Draco had taken to looking up existing thestral information in the library when he finished his homework early, but it was so incomplete that Draco could hardly believe it. Luna was now doing in-person studies with permission from Hagrid (whom Luna had forbidden him from calling an oaf while writing her).

Between all these things going on though -- classes, homework, patrol, thestral study, writing Luna, quidditch practise, general keeping track of things -- Draco was hardly sleeping. He had taken to casting a mild glamour over his dark circles since Saturday morning, coming back from quidditch, when he had forgotten the glamour and Pansy had been appalled by them. 

His life didn’t get any easier either when he was shaken from sleep on Sunday by a panicked Pansy. 

He glared at her with his eyes still blurry. 

Pansy only huffed in exasperation. “Get. Up. We have a problem! Come on.”

Draco sat up and rubbed his eyes. His voice was still scratchy when he said, “I’m up Pansy. What is it? Whatever it is better actually be important.”

Pansy grabbed Draco’s hands away from his face so that she could stare him in the eye. Her voice was tense. “I just got a letter from my mother this morning. The Ministry made another move. She said they’ve made Umbridge the High Inquisitor. They want her to inspect other classes!”

Draco’s eyes widened. “What does that even mean? She’s going to review the teachers?” Draco felt his forehead crease. He knew why that should concern him but… “Why do you even care so much Pansy? You think my concern over Potter is stupid.”

Pansy backed up a step-and-a-half and glared at him. “Of course I care! I care about you, and you care about him!” Draco actually physically recoiled. Pansy seeing his look lifted her head enough to look down at him in an insulted manner. “Besides which, she is a horrible teacher. I haven’t learned a thing in her class about defense and it _is_ our O.W.L year. If she ruins all our other classes I’m bound to fail. I’m not as much of a swot as you are after all.”

Draco purposely let his face soften. His voice almost came out as a croak. “Thanks Pansy. I do appreciate it.”

Pansy rolled her eyes, but her face softened in return and she stepped closer to flick a bit of hair from his face. 

A loud throat clearing came from across the room.

Both Draco and Pansy flinched hard and turned to look at the source so fast it was a surprise they didn’t pull something. Zabini was sitting in his bed, dressed, with several books around him and a roll of parchment in front of him. His curtains were partially pulled around his bed, so that they looked closed from the side by the door, but were open on the side by the window, presumably so he could look out into the lake. 

He met Draco stare head on with an eyebrow raised. “If you want to have private conversations you should at least check that you’re alone first. I’ve been right here this whole time.”

Draco grit his teeth. He wasn’t sure how to respond. This could not be good.

Zabini saw his look and smirked. “It’s eleven in the morning, you can’t blame me. I am, however, very much interested in hearing more. I find it curious that you wouldn’t like Umbridge, Malfoy. I was under the impression your father may have helped put her here.”

Draco threw his arm out to keep Pansy from finishing her scathing reply and took in Zabini’s features. They seemed too carefully constructed for someone with the upper hand. 

Draco dropped his arm and shrugged casually. “He may have. I’m not my father.”

Zabini’s eyebrows lowered. When he spoke his voice was measured. “So I see. Why don’t you like her?”

Draco smirked. “You don’t like her either, do you?”

Zabini set down his quill and let himself fall back against his pillows. He huffed out a breath. “No, I don’t. I don’t trust the government.” He rolled his eyes. “I especially don’t trust a government who wants to micromanage this much. It can’t be for any good reason.”

Draco let himself fall back against his pillows as well. “It’s not. You can believe me on that.”

Pansy raised an eyebrow at Draco. He didn’t take it to heart. He didn’t quite know what he was doing either. If he was lucky it would be making a new ally. He was already in trouble with Zabini, he may as well see where things went.

Zabini crossed his arms. “They want to discredit Dumbledore and Potter, don’t they? The Dark Lord must really be back then.”

Draco swallowed. His voice quiet. “He is.”

Zabini took in Draco’s face and posture. He closed his eyes and sighed quietly. When he opened them again he dropped his arms. “I was afraid you’d say that. I imagine you would know.”

Draco grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

Zabini smiled. “That’s fine then, I suppose.”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Sure enough, Umbridge’s new appointment was in the Daily Prophet the next morning. He shared a grim look with Zabini and Pansy who sat across from him. 

His eyes were quick to slide around to the Gryffindor table and a certain brunet in particular. He was surprised to find green eyes already trained on him. Potter looked awful. His face seemed to be running the gamut of stormy emotions. Draco couldn’t help grimacing at the pain he could see there. Potter’s eyes widened in surprise. 

Draco was quick to look away.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco didn’t have any inspected classes that day, but Potter obviously had. News had reached him of Potter’s new week of detentions by dinner time.

The news washed over Draco like an icy wave. He couldn’t believe Potter could be so _stupid_. 

When he saw Potter leave dinner early to head to his detention, he was quick to slip out after him, Vincent and Greg too busy eating to notice.

Draco followed Potter at a bit of a distance; when Potter turned into an empty corridor that was rarely used, Draco saw his chance. He was so angry he didn’t even consider casting a spell. He sped up until he was next to Potter and then shoved him as hard as he could into the stone wall.

Potter was surprised for a second before he realized what was happening and glared. “What the fuck Malfoy!?”

Draco bared his teeth at Potter. “What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are _you doing_?! It’s like you don’t _want_ people to believe you! Are you _trying_ to get detention?!”

Potter grabbed a couple handfuls of Draco’s robes and shoved him back. Draco stumbled a few steps back and fell. Draco grabbed Potter’s hands and squeezed, hard, to get him to let go, but Potter’s hands barely budged. 

Potter’s voice was mocking. “Why do you care Malfoy!? It’s got nothing to do with you!”

Draco actually growled. He dropped Potter’s hands to grab at Potter’s robes, using them to pull Potter down on the floor with him and then flipped them so he was pinning Potter. He leaned as close to Potter’s face as he could so Potter could see just how much he meant his next words. His voice was practically a hiss. “I. Don’t. Care.”

Neither Draco nor Potter moved for a minute, both panting into the other’s face. 

That’s when Draco made a mistake. He’d never been quite that close to Potter before, he could hardly help when his eyes drifted down to Potter’s mouth. It made the whole situation feel different and Draco panicked. He was quick to look back at Potter’s eyes, but they’d widened in a kind of realization. 

Draco pushed himself back and away from Potter as hard as he could, ending up almost at the wall. Draco couldn’t tear his eyes from Potter to run or even get up, he could only stare in horror. 

Potter sat up and rubbed the back of his head absentmindedly, his eyes not leaving Draco’s, his voice sounded rough. “You do care. For some reason. What the hell Malfoy?”

Draco saw he looked a bit lost and wanted to scream. He grimaced. “I don’t care. Why would I care?”

Potter’s just kept staring at him. “Yes. Why would you?”

Draco turned his face, finally freeing himself from those damn eyes, and stood up. He’d been so stupid. He paused a few steps away when he realized that Potter hadn’t moved. “Ten points from Gryffindor for being infuriating, Potter.”

Then he stormed off back toward the dungeons. 

He refused to patrol that night.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


He spent the evening behind his curtains, sulking, with his head on Pansy’s lap. When Pansy had asked about him not patrolling he’d had to tell her what had happened. She was more good-natured about it than he expected, stroking his hair the way he liked and only calling him an idiot once. 

Zabini was sitting on his bed when she left and raised an eyebrow at him. Draco only huffed and looked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of course Umbridge was in his Care of Magical Creatures class the next day. He was glad that Hagrid was still gone. He could give non-committal answers with little backlash. He was afraid he’d arouse Potter’s anger otherwise and the last thing he wanted was Potter to lose his temper in front of Umbridge.

Pansy was a little meaner, but nothing terrible, and she shot Draco a look of apology after. 

Greg and Vincent took his reticence to mean they shouldn’t say anything either and Draco clapped them on their shoulders and nodded approval at them on their way up to the castle. They seemed pleased.

Potter didn’t seem to take his eyes off Draco once the whole class. Draco couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but it wasn’t about Umbridge for once. He thought he was going to go mad.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco couldn’t handle patrol that night either, but he resolved to start again the next night no matter how he was feeling. Potter was in a strange mood and Draco wasn’t sure if that made him more or less likely to get into trouble. 

Watching the trio when he could seemed to tell him that his two accomplices didn’t know what had gotten into him either. It made Draco paranoid. 

Even more worrying, his father hadn’t written him once.

  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


The tension finally came to a head that Friday, the last day of Potter’s detentions. 

Draco had been patrolling down by Umbridge's office. Pansy had teamed up with a sixth year prefect to search the seventh floor around Gryffindor tower. 

He had been distracted working on his Occlumency, trying to store his anxiety in a new box and so had been patrolling for longer than usual. It had gone midnight when he saw Potter exit the office. 

He was holding himself tightly and walking fast. Draco followed him at a distance. He’d never seen Potter look quite like that and he…. well, frankly, he wanted to see if Potter was okay.

He took a few secret passages. Anything to get away from that office it seemed. He didn’t even appear to be heading for the tower.

Eventually he stopped and sank to the floor by a pillar. Draco didn’t know what to do. Maybe Pansy was right and trying to find Potter after his detentions was a bad idea. He shouldn’t even be here, he didn’t have a plan.

“Hss ow.”

Harry’s voice sounded pained, abruptly distracting Draco from his panic. 

He couldn’t see Potter, who was blocked by said pillar, so Draco stepped gingerly to the side, to see without Potter becoming aware of him. He was dabbing at his left hand with his right sleeve and wincing. Draco saw a dribble of blood slide off his hand and down to the floor.

Draco’s eyes widened in shock as his gaze stayed transfixed by the drop. Once it splattered, Draco lost it. 

He stormed over to Potter and grabbed at his hand, practically screeching, “You’re hurt! Merlin’s beard!”

Potter’s head jerked up and he tried to keep his bleeding hand out of Draco’s reach, but Draco was much too determined and grabbed at it some more until he caught it. Potter sputtered. “What the hell Malfoy!? No, no I’m not hurt, give me my hand back! What are you doing here?!”

Draco hissed when he saw what the injury was. He read it aloud without thinking in a whisper. “I must not tell lies.”

Potter stilled. His voice was as quiet as Draco’s when he spoke again. “What are you _doing_ Malfoy?”

Draco’s head was spinning. He knew exactly what would cause a wound like this. “She’s torturing you with a Black Quill.”

Potter swallowed hard and nodded. Draco noticed that his eyes looked a bit damp. He couldn’t blame him. He’d been in there for hours and hours. Draco’s eyes probably looked crazy as he contemplated it. 

Draco pulled out his handkerchief and wet it with a bit of dittany he had on hand. With everything going on he thought it would be prudent to always have some just in case. He was very glad for it. 

Draco went to dab Harry’s hand with it, but Harry drew it away, almost out of Draco’s grasp, his eyes wide. “What is that? And why are you doing this? I don’t understand why you care.”

Draco shut his eyes for a second to focus. He opened them and immediately met Potter’s eyes. “It’s only dittany Potter. A potion for healing wounds. It’s not going to do much with an injury like this, but it should help calm the bleeding down and maybe the swelling.”

He didn’t say anything to the why. Potter stared at him some more, before letting Malfoy take his hand again and start dabbing. Potter hissed at first but after a second it seemed to help. Draco wiped up the blood and then wrapped the handkerchief around Potter’s hand as best he could before letting it go. 

Draco sat back on his heels and just looked at Potter. He wanted to kiss his hand. He wanted to wrap his arms around Potter’s neck and rest his forehead on his shoulder. He grimaced. He couldn’t believe himself.

Potter’s eyes narrowed. Draco knew he was about to get yelled at again. He headed it off. His voice was tense and defensive. “I care alright. Don’t ask me why.”

Potter shot him a look of sheer disbelief. “What is going on with you Malfoy? Did you get possessed?”

Draco scowled at Potter. “Watch your back Potter.” For some reason that made Potter’s mouth quirk up in a half smile. Draco wanted to smile back. Instead he said, “I think my father had something to do with the bitch’s appointment.”

He wanted to bite his tongue when Potter’s smile fell. “You mean she’s a Death Eater?”

Draco practically growled and looked away from Potter. “Don’t be so small minded Potter. Of course she’s not a Death Eater, she fully believes in what she’s saying.” He turned back to Potter to impress on him what he was saying next. “That doesn’t mean that the Ministry isn’t vulnerable to Death Eater influence while they are in denial.”

Potter’s face was tense, his eyes dark. It sent a shiver down Draco’s spine. “Voldemort doesn’t want people to know he’s back, so he’s using his Death Eaters to influence the Ministry into keeping its stance against me and Dumbledore so that he can hide better?”

Draco winced at The Dark Lord’s name. He thought he felt a muscle in his jaw tic, he was clenching it so tight. He was surprised Potter had caught on so fast. He nodded. 

Potter grimaced. “Why are you telling me this? I don’t understand why you care about this. You wouldn’t even admit last year that your father was a Death Eater and now you’re telling me his plans?”

Draco swallowed nervously. “You need to tell someone about what she’s doing. I don’t care who, Dumbledore, McGonagall. Fudge. But you have to tell someone.”

Potter was clearly angry by this suggestion. “Why?”

Draco glared back at him. His voice even sounded irate. “Because if this gets to light then she can be fired -- by Dumbledore, or the school governors, or hell, maybe the Ministry! I thought by telling you how much of a good thing that would be for the big picture you’d listen!”

Potter practically snarled at him. “I’m not going to tell anyone, Malfoy, and if you do I’ll hex you into next week! Or better, I’ll tell everyone you _helped_ me! That won’t go over well at home if your father really is involved, will it?!”

Draco hated him. “You’d rather get _tortured_ every week than admit to an adult that you need help?! Even if it could mean helping with the war?!” Draco stood up. “I didn’t know you’d rather drown in your own pride than _win._ No wonder you aren’t a Slytherin, even if you do blackmail like one!”

Draco turned and left Potter on the floor. 

He had to blink back frustrated tears.

He hated when Pansy was right.

  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  



	3. It Was Like Having Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slytherin house politics and some Luna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a while. I've been a bit busy AND AND I got a new Beta reader!!! Huge thanks to FerchKalvaNiibi on AO3!! They looked over this chapter and the previous two since I last posted. You can thank them for the improved grammar.

Draco was more furious than he’d ever been in his life. He spent the whole weekend in a fit of roaring temper, unable to stand being around others, but feeling cooped up and frustrated alone. 

It would probably help, he thought, practically stabbing the air with his wand as he practiced some spell or other he could barely remember, if he could decide just who exactly he was mad at and concoct some way to fix it. He kept cycling through a range of targets. Harry bloody Potter featuring quite a bit. 

He couldn’t believe that Potter was being so stubborn. He had no doubts that if anyone else was in Potter’s place he’d walk them to the headmaster’s office himself, the prat. 

Umbridge and the Headmaster himself also featured prominently. There was no denying now that Umbridge was the lowest of the low. Draco had never even _heard_ of someone using a Black Quill in that manner before, and he’d heard of some truly disgusting torture methods from some of the books in the manor’s library. The fact that she’d use it on a fifteen year old on top of that was unfathomable to Draco. The Dark Lord could take lessons from her. 

And Dumbledore had failed to keep her out of his precious school! He preached unity and safety, but invited discord and pain inside his walls. Dumbledore was supposed to be the best defense the light side had against the Dark Lord, and he couldn’t even hold off the Ministry?

Most of all, though, Draco was mad at himself. He couldn’t figure out how to _do_ anything about it. With Potter’s threat hanging over his head he had to step carefully. He couldn’t go to anyone on Potter’s side, they would sooner hex him than trust him, and no one he could go to would care. He thought about Uncle Severus for a while, but ultimately decided that even if he knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it either. 

Come Monday, Draco refused to even look at Potter. He wasn’t sure if Potter noticed, but it made him feel better that he was slighting Potter in some way, even if he couldn’t tell. 

His Slytherin companions were sending him looks like they expected him to blow up at any moment. He barely noticed, too busy ignoring Potter and seething quietly lest he really did explode.

This went on for three days. Three days where Draco lived in a haze of resentment that didn’t allow him to concentrate on much else. 

He and Zabini were coming in the common room entrance when he was knocked back into reality by way of Theo shoulder checking him deliberately on the way out. 

Draco was quick to swing around and confront him. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Theo turned back to Draco and graced him with a sneer the likes of which Draco hadn’t seen from a fellow Slytherin in years. “What do I think I’m doing? What do you think _you’re_ doing hanging out with the likes of Zabini?”

Draco glared coldly back at Theo. He hadn’t really noticed, being so wrapped up in Potter’s nonsense, but looking back he _had_ been spending a lot of time with Zabini, Zabini joining him at meals, in the corridors, and even joining him and Pansy to work on homework. “What’s it to you who I spend my time with?”

The common room around them was getting suspiciously quiet. 

Theo grinned maliciously. “Oh? I guess you haven’t heard then? I’m surprised the Great Draco Malfoy would be so slow on the uptake.”

Draco felt Zabini tense up beside him. He adopted an even colder look and tone, hoping that whatever Zabini had done wasn’t too bad. “I assure you there is nothing you could tell me that would come as a surprise.”

Nott didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He just grinned even wider. “So you know that Zabini was caught snogging a bloke over the summer? Didn’t know you were looking to be friends with poofs.”

Several people around them gasped and started whispering to each other. Draco did his best to not react, making the most of his Occlumency skills. He had definitely not known this. He could just see Pansy shooting him a concerned look from over Nott’s shoulder. 

Draco sneered. “What do I care who Blaise has been snogging? As long as it’s not me. At least he has his uses; what are you good for, Nott?”

Blaise leaned around Draco to leer at Nott. “Unless you wanted a go, Nott? I’ve never kissed anyone as ugly as you, but I’ll try anything once.”

Nott glared at both of them. “You’ll regret this, Malfoy. You know who my father is. There will be consequences.”

Blaise flipped Nott the bird and Nott stomped out of the common room. 

Draco turned to address the rest of the Slytherin common room. “Do any of the rest of you have any problems with Blaise or me?”

There was a sudden quiet, during which Vincent and Greg finally appeared from wherever they had been to stand behind Draco and crack their knuckles. Draco appreciated their timing. 

Draco smirked. “Good.”

Then he marched over to the large wingback chair in front of the fireplace, a previously snogging fourth year couple falling over each other to get out of it, and flung himself down in it. Clearly he’d been slacking in his duties. He hasn’t held court in the common room since before the third task last term. Well, if Potter didn’t want his help, didn’t want his advice, then Malfoy would just have to _make him wish he did._

Pansy giggled and draped herself over the arm of the chair, her arm laid artfully around his neck. Even Blaise went with the play and added to the picture by leaning on the back of the chair by Draco’s other side, glaring down his nose at the rest of Draco’s ‘friends’ that gathered around. Greg and Vincent on a couch adjacent to Draco’s chair with Milli; Davies and Greengrass sharing an ottoman, even Montague the Quidditch captain and Warrington one of the chasers were sharing a loveseat on the other side of the fire.

It was an exciting prospect to have the ear of the older years, he hadn’t quite managed it before. He was too young as a first and second year to be taken seriously, and Flint, though stupid, held sway better as Quidditch captain in Draco’s third and fourth year than Draco had quite managed to, though he thought he’d been making some progress.

Draco swung his left arm around Pansy and made a flippant gesture with his right toward the crowd. “Does anyone have something of actual _interest_ to tell me?”

Warrington grunted, when Draco looked over at him with a raised eyebrow he spoke up. “Found out they got another Weasley on the Gryffindor team. Potter’s sidekick.”

Draco sneered. “Red-haired Weasleys must attract other Gryffindors like flies to honey. There’s nothing special about them.” Draco had a thought that was so delicious he was unable to stop a smile from spreading slowly over his face. “But they do have _plenty_ of flaws. We just need to find this Weasel’s.”

He ran his eyes from one side of his little group to the other. When he landed on Davies he got an idea. “Davies! You have a brother in Ravenclaw, right?”

Davies sat up straighter, her previous smile falling fast. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m any less-”

Draco waved her off. “No, it’s good. He was made captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team last year, right? So you know a fair bit about Quidditch, even though you don’t play.”

Davies’s eyebrows furrowed. “That’s right. Far more than I want to know to be honest. He never shuts up at home.”

“Do you think you can get a Ravenclaw tie and robes from him?”

Now Davies was smiling too. “It won’t be a problem. I expect you want me to pretend to be a Ravenclaw and go scout around the Gryffindor’s practices?”

Draco smirked. “Exactly.”

Montague was quick to chime in. “That’s brilliant! We never had any luck trying to spy on the Gryffindors before, but we always kept the attempts within the team.”

Draco frowned and snapped. “And away from me.”

Montague shrugged, unrepentant. “Flint didn’t want you involved in anything. We thought you’d be too easily recognizable anyway, with Potter on the team.”

Draco rolled his eyes and settled back in his chair. It didn’t matter what happened before, he would more than make up for it now. He hoped something was really wrong with Weasley. Giving Weasley hell would hurt Potter just as much as if it were him. Draco would also be able to get some revenge for Weasley having left Potter last year, taking the role of Potter’s best friend and squandering it. Oh, yes, this would be some beautiful revenge. 

Pansy spoke up from his shoulder. “If we’re to be in the business of hurting Weasleys, we should do something about those awful twins. I heard through the other prefects that they’re advertising for people to test some new inventions of theirs. Mostly first years.”

Draco gave Pansy a horrified look. “Are they really?”

Pansy pursed her lips and hummed an affirmative with a look of distaste. 

Montague scoffed. “We can’t let that happen! Those twins are going to turn them against us Slytherins! They’re demons, they are. Look what they did to me in fourth year! Shoved me in that vanishing cabinet. I thought I’d never get out. Stuck in some weird liminal space between here and Borgin and Burkes for ages until I managed to apparate or whatever it was I did.”

Draco stared at Montague with a frown. He’d forgotten about that. “Whatever happened to that old cabinet anyway?”

Montague shrugged. “Don’t know really. Snape said he took care of it when I asked, but he didn’t say where he put it. Storage somewhere probably. Though I’d be happier if it was off the grounds to be honest. Don’t want those twins to use it on someone else.”

Montague shivered. 

Draco looked over at Warrington next to Montague. “Since you’re the Slytherin seventh year prefect, you’ve spent some time with our first years. Are any of them particularly promising?”

Warrington looked considering. “Might be a couple I could look at for a spot of spying. You really think the Weasleys will let a Slytherin test their products?”

Draco shrugged. It was always hard to tell with the twins. “If other houses have heard about it, they aren’t sticking with just Gryffindors. I bet we could sneak one or two in playing the innocent firsty. If the innocent act doesn’t work they might take them just to use untested items on a Slytherin with the excuse that they’d agreed. Either way it’s worth a shot for a glance at what’s coming, because they are definitely going to be using whatever it is on all of the Slytherins soon.”

There were nods of agreement all around. 

The group started talking about other things and Draco lost track. At some point Pansy slid all the way into his lap. Draco held back a wince and shuffled around uncomfortably. 

He hissed into Pansy’s ear, “Must you sit on me? You’re heavy.”

Pansy giggled in a cutesy manner that disgusted Draco. He’d never heard Pansy do that before. It was revolting. She leaned even closer to his ear and held her hand up in front of her mouth as he had, whispering back. “First of all it's for _your_ cover, second of all I’m going to give us a great excuse to leave in just a second, and _third, I’m not fat you ponce._ ”

Draco actually leaned back at that last part worried Pansy might do something rash. Montague saw it and leered at him. It gave Draco an idea of what Pansy’s escape plan was. 

Draco straightened as much as he could in his chair and accidently cut Milli off mid-sentence when he announced, “Well, We’re going to bed then. Goodnight.”

Milli looked highly affronted, but everyone else only smiled and said their goodnights. Greg made a comment about him and Vincent staying down in the common room for a while. Draco didn’t blame them. 

Pansy hopped off and they left, Blaise trailing discreetly behind them. 

When they were all safely alone in the fifth year boys’ dorm, Draco locked the door and sighed heavily, leaning back against it to glare at Blaise. Blaise gave an uneasy smile. Draco rubbed his eyes. “Please, _please_ , explain to me what the fuck I just covered you for.”

Blaise coughed. His voice was weak. “Because we’re such good friends now?”

Draco glared. 

Blaise sighed. “Alright fine. I made friends with the son of one of my mother's Italian friends. Then I made more than friends. We got caught by a reporter near the end of summer, but they were more interested in him than me, you can barely see my face in the picture and my name isn’t mentioned in the article, so I thought I’d be fine.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I suppose becoming my friend was an investment in case it did get out.”

Blaise smirked, but his eyes looked guilty. “Well… I wasn’t going to become friends with a future Death Eater on the eve of a war just for protection from pureblood homophobia, no, I didn’t decide to become friends with you until I overheard you and Pansy.”

Draco frowned at Blaise. “What were you going to do then?”

Blaise winked. “Why, exactly what you did. Get myself a girlfriend. Bit easier for me though, seeing as I’m bi.”

Draco gave Blaise his best offended scowl. “What do you mean what I did?! And what about your precious Italian boy?”

Now it was Blaise’s turn to roll his eyes. “I have been hanging out with you and Pansy for almost two weeks now, not to mention I _heard you_ downstairs. If you’re a couple then I’m a Gryffindor. You're more bent than I am. And Marco broke up with me as soon as we were caught.” Blaise looked uncomfortable. “He said he was just fooling around anyway.”

Pansy scoffed. Draco had almost forgotten she was there. “Men are cows, honestly.” She put a consoling hand on Blaise’s shoulder and Draco raised an eyebrow. 

Draco supposed that Pansy and Blaise must have been getting close while he had been fuming. He felt bad for Blaise though, really. Wizarding society in general didn’t mind too much about homosexuality and its spectrum, but purebloods were expected to marry another pureblood of a different sex and produce at least one heir. Blaise was already on the outskirts of pureblood society with how his mother carried on her relationships, this wasn’t going to be easy for him.

Draco understood the draw in fooling around though, so he couldn’t really blame either Blaise or this Marco. He couldn’t believe it when one of the Durmstrang boys had flirted with him last year. It was like a breath of fresh air to be attracted to someone that wasn’t Potter. Someone that wanted him back, even if neither had any real feelings. 

Pansy had been his first kiss. Outside the Slytherin common room entrance after the Yule Ball. He’d noticed the press of lips and her tacky lipstick; he’d felt a vague dislike, as if he was kissing distant family. Kind of gross. Hristo had pulled him under the stands after the second task and it was much different. His stubble had scratched at Draco’s cheeks and his tongue was hot in his mouth even as the wind around them blew cold and Draco’s anger at Potter for risking his life for a stranger warmed his core. 

Later there had been fumbling in an abandoned classroom, Hristo’s stubble on his thighs and his tongue somewhere much more pleasurable. Hristo’s thumb against his bottom lip and his deep voice husky. “They don’t make lips like yours in Bulgaria.” Before Draco had dropped to his knees to return the favor. 

They hadn’t been serious though, just a bit of freedom for Draco really. He hadn’t even been mad when he’d stumbled on Hristo with his tongue in a Ravenclaw sixth year’s mouth about a week before the third task, merely shrugged and nodded them on. He’d nearly forgotten about him entirely in the wake of the third task and all the moral conundrums Draco had been contemplating since. 

Draco had half hoped that the hookups would distract him from Potter, or maybe put him off Potter altogether. The only thing it had done on that front, however, was make Draco’s dreams of Potter more explicit. It was mortifying. 

Draco startled when he saw both Pansy and Blaise staring at him. He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Pansy raised both of hers in response. “What? We’ve only been talking to you the past couple minutes.” Pansy got a sly look on her face that made Draco want to take a step backwards. “Were you daydreaming about Potter again?” She put her hands together under her chin and made a kissy face. “Imagining if you were fooling around with _him_ over the summer?”

Draco’s face morphed into a look of disgust, and then panic as he remembered Blaise was _right there listening -- what the fuck Pansy!_

Blaise’s face showed extreme interest and he leaned forward over Pansy’s shoulder to get a better look at Draco’s reaction. “Potter, hmm. That makes sense. Pulling his pigtails. And you wouldn’t want to work for someone that wants to kill him. But you wouldn’t go against the grain for just any reason either. Guess he’s not bad looking. A little rumpled though.”

Draco grimaced and flushed to the roots of his hair. “He’s not rumpled he’s-! You know what! I don’t care. Pansy I hate you, I can’t believe you said that!”

Pansy rolled her eyes and pushed Blaise off her shoulder so she could walk over to Draco’s bed and sit down. “It’s only fair, Draco. We know his secrets. It seems like we’ll be putting up with him for awhile now anyway and he already half figured it out.” Pansy turned to address Blaise now. “That being said, if you say anything they’ll never find your body.”

Blaise raised his hands in front of himself as if to ward her off. “I won’t. Who the hell would believe me anyway?”

Pansy smiled. “Good.”

Blaise dropped his hands. “What do you get out of your little arrangement anyway Pansy? I can see what he gets, but you’re not like us, are you?”

Pansy pursed her lips, then threw herself back across Draco’s bed. Draco crossed his arms at the dramatics. “No, I’m not like you. I do like boys. We’ve made a deal that Draco’s to propose if I get no other offers.”

Blaise looked surprised and shot glances between the two of them. “You really want to marry him? Even though he’s gay? And you’d do it Draco?”

Draco shrugged and Pansy scoffed. Pansy was the one to address it, though, and Draco was happy to let her. “It’s not like he’s going to be able to be with Potter. We’ve been friends since before Hogwarts, we understand each other. We wouldn’t expect the other to do anything. It’d be better than most other matches I could make, with men I don’t know. We wouldn’t have to be faithful and I’d make my parents- my mother, happy, making a rich pureblood match.”

Even the oblique reference to Pansy’s father made Draco wince internally. The reason Pansy’s mother was allowed so much leeway when it came to raising their daughter was to do with his involvement in the last war. He and Draco’s father had been good friends in school and had both left it and joined the Dark Lord immediately. But while Draco’s father had been able to claim he was under the Imperius Curse, Parkinson could not, having been found by Aurors in the act. He was sentenced to the Dementor’s kiss. A secret Pansy had divulged only at the end of third year when she’d wept in relief that the Dementors were gone. 

Draco had felt horrible for the way he’d acted about them, having listened to Pansy’s secret, but Pansy was understanding. She understood that Draco actually hated them as well, and that his mocking made him feel better about it, less like they had any power over him. 

Still, hearing Pansy talk about how her father’s empty body had been sent home to her mother once they were done with it, how as long as Pansy remembered he’d been hooked up to magical instruments that helped keep him alive, but his eye open and blank in a back room of their manor, filled him with a horror he had trouble naming. 

Her mother was afraid to let him go until after Pansy was married. Worried that she’d end up destitute, that she’d lose access to his fortune. Bitter that she hadn’t had a son to whom she could be sure the fortune would go to in case the Ministry tried to challenge her own inheritance on legal fronts. 

Draco clicked his tongue. “I don’t see why you care anyway Blaise, you don’t have to marry either of us.”

Blaise finally smiled again. “Damn right I’m not going to marry either of you.”

  
  


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Draco was finally able to get some sleep that night, his efforts towards taking down three of the Weasleys calming his anger enough that he could forget it for just a moment. 

It seemed he’d also gained a fast friend in Blaise, who now accompanied he and Pansy almost everywhere, with Greg and Vincent sometimes trailing behind. It made something in Draco light up at the thought, he’d never really made a friend of his own volition before, and his last attempt, Potter, had gone miserably. All his other friends, Pansy, Greg, Vincent, he’d known since before Hogwarts and often shared tutors with while he was growing up. Blaise was a new element.

On the other hand, he seemed to have given Theo- Nott, that one last shove he’d needed to move completely out of Draco’s orbit. Nott had also been around since Draco was small, and even though they’d never been real friends, Draco wasn’t sure he liked how things had unraveled. He’d already fielded two nasty letters about ostracizing Nott from his father, who was worried about Nott’s father, but Draco wasn’t too worried, having used the excuse of building different political allies. Other than upsetting his father, Nott hadn’t made any attacks on Draco or Blaise’s person, which was probably all the better for Nott, considering Draco’s renewed efforts to retain his popularity.

Potter apparently _had_ noticed Draco ignoring him right after the Black Quill Incident (as Draco had started calling it in his head) because he was now staring at Draco any chance he could get and Draco had even caught him _following him._ Pansy told him she’d even overheard Weasley and Granger talking together at a prefects’ meeting about how Potter had begun insisting that Draco was Up To Something -- to the exclusion of almost all else. Draco was oddly flattered.

He took his chance to renew his tormenting. Staring at him was apparently such an effective distraction for Potter that Draco couldn’t resist mucking up whatever Potter happened to be working on. Once when Draco spotted Potter following him by the Quidditch field, he’d put him in a body-bind and locked him in the broomshed. 

Draco thought it was all good revenge for not only ignoring his help, but for all the time he spent thinking of him and all the dreams Draco had had of his eyes on him that made him wake up with a wet spot on his sheets. It felt like he was going crazy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it without breaking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


On Friday the 27th Draco got a particularly interesting note from Luna. He continued to talk to her regularly, but more commonly about unusual creatures, so getting something different was always noteworthy, this one especially.

  
  


_Draco, I just got the most fascinating invitation. My friend Ginny told me that Harry is starting some sort of defence club and invited me to come to the first meeting at the Hog’s Head on our first Hogsmeade weekend. Would you like to come with me? You and Harry do seem to like looking at each other lately, this would be a good occasion for it._

  
  


Draco stared at this message for so long his eyes prickled. He ran his fingers across it several times. He could not believe what he was reading was real. He had seen for himself that Potter was friends with Luna, but he’d never thought that his own friendship with Luna (if that’s what she insisted on calling it, Draco wasn’t sure) would lead to any sort of invitation to spend time with Potter. Luna had to know that they hated each other. 

The other part of his brain was trying to process the nature of the invitation. Just what was Potter trying to do? A defence club. That was bound to get shut down by Umbridge before it did any good. Draco wrote out,

**Just what is Potter’s goal with this little club? He has to know Umbridge won’t allow it?**

He didn’t have to wait long for Luna’s reply.

_If I’m invited I doubt it’s going to be that little. Ginny said that Harry wants to teach people how to defend themselves properly because Umbridge won’t and You-Know-Who is back. I think it’s supposed to be a secret, but I trust you._

Draco knew he should be concentrating on the rest of that, but his eyes kept focusing on the end ‘I trust you'. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been trusted by anyone before. His friends tended toward mutually assured destruction rather than trust when it came to secrets. But.

**I trust you too.**

He felt his face soften and was glad for his bed curtains.

_Thank you Draco! I feel that’s a good compliment from you._

Draco fell back on his pillows to think about the rest of it. He knew Luna wouldn’t mind the delay. He couldn’t actually go. That wouldn’t go over well. The glare on Potter’s face last time Draco wanted to help proved that. But a secret from Umbridge would be just the sort of thing that would help Draco feel better about being unable to stop her from torturing Potter. He sat up and wrote back.

**I can’t go Luna, I don’t think I would be welcome there. Even if I was welcome, a Slytherin among the Gryffindors would be even more suspicious. I do want to help though. I just need to think about how. If I come up with an idea on how to help could you tell the others without telling them it was me?**

_Whyever wouldn’t you want them to know you were helping?_

**Trust me Luna, they wouldn’t take the advice if they knew it was from me.**

Draco frowned down at the page. He wished he knew some way to convey to Luna how much it would hurt to be rejected a third time, but he didn’t even know how to start explaining. Besides, the anonymity would serve as a good cover if his advice ended up going wrong as well. Luna was hardly the type to cast blame. 

_Alright, if you think it best. As long as you promise to tell people later._

**Okay Luna, I promise if I ever make friends with Harry Potter I’ll tell him I gave him some advice.**

Like that would ever happen. 

_Thank you, Draco!_ _  
  
_

Underneath her thanks Luna had drawn a little radish looking thing and captioned it

_A dirigible plum to help your thoughts!_

It was disgustingly cute even if Draco had no idea what that was. He smiled fondly at it.

That was enough talking for one night, if Draco was getting so mushy. He said his goodnights and put up the journal. 

Luna’s dirigible plums bounced through his dreams.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took Draco all of Saturday to decide, but he ended up telling Pansy and Blaise about Potter’s plans. They pestered him endlessly about his source, but Draco refused to reveal anything.

In the end they helped anyway, in the name of Draco’s crush. With Blaise now helping Pansy in sending him knowing looks and pointed eyebrow wiggles, Draco had what felt like a permanent blush the whole time they were scheming.

By Monday night they had a list of things to pass onto Luna. 

The very first thing they decided was that this meeting absolutely _could not_ take place in the Hog’s Head. It was notorious for use by smugglers and any manner of people could overhear what was sure to be a loud meeting of students. 

There was a large back table in the Three Broomsticks that student organizations frequently reserved on Hogsmeade weekends that would be the best place if it wasn’t already reserved. No one would look twice at a large group of students getting together there. It was important to use their numbers to hide Potter in plain sight. No matter how innocuous, Umbridge would pay attention to anything Potter was involved with, due to the huge target he’d painted on himself. 

Draco had a spell that Uncle Severus had taught him when he had gotten his acceptance letter from Hogwarts. The spell, _muffliato_ , allowed people to hear your muffled voice instead of complete silence. It would be a lot less suspicious to have a loud table then one that had silenced itself. Draco knew it was for the best, but giving Potter’s group that one had hurt. 

It didn’t help that it was Pansy’s idea either. “You should give them that spell you always use when you want to rant about Potter.”

Draco blushed and glared at her. “Why would I want to give them that spell? I haven’t even told _you_ what it is.”

Pansy smirked. “Because it’ll help Potter. And if you do send it to him you have to tell me.”

Even Blaise had grinned at him and Draco had ended up caving. He was actively fighting against Potter landing in detention again, doing this. He wasn’t sure his heart could handle a failure.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco sent the list of suggestions to Luna Tuesday night. She promised that she’d bring them to the Golden Trio. 

Thinking of Luna’s plums, Draco had a last burst of sentimentality. He found he couldn’t bear the thought that she might end up tortured by Umbridge. 

**Don’t sign your name on anything Luna. If they get found out there can’t be proof. If you need to sign something use your initials. It’ll be much harder for the bitch to figure out who L.L. is than a Luna.**

Draco was a bit embarrassed by his worry. After all, he hadn’t even talked to Luna in person since the carriage at the end of last year. He didn’t know what he’d do if she got caught though. Luna was quick to respond.

_That’s a very sweet suggestion Draco! I promise I won’t if it’ll make you feel better. I do wish you could come._

Draco immediately felt better. No one had ever accused him of being sweet before. It brought a smile to his face. 

**I have every intention of being there should my suggestions be taken. I’m going to sit as close as I can with Blaise and Pansy so I’ll hear if the Muffling Charm wears off. It’s hard to get it to last a long time at first. Keep your journal on you and I’ll write if I hear anything.**

_Thank you Draco! I look forward to seeing you!_

Draco shut the journal for the night and got under his covers. He found he was looking forward to it too.

  
  



	4. Worse When You Finally Feel It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first DA meeting and Draco gets a letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again huge thanks to my beta; FerchKalvaNiibi
> 
> Some general notes:
> 
> 1\. I know that word of god is that Tracey Davis and Roger Davies are not related but.... I like it better if they are so now Roger is her older brother.
> 
> 2\. I found out about the Black Quill/Blood Quill thing fairly recently, so I knew it's official name but not it's origins when I wrote about it. It's lore will be a bit mixed.
> 
> SPOILER  
> 3\. Draco has a panic attack this chapter. I based it on my own panic attacks, but mine are a bit muddled with some fun ptsd, and everyone has them a bit differently. I don't mean anything offensive. 
> 
> If anyone has any questions or would just like to chat my tumblr is vicecaptain-atomicthirst

The wait in the lead-up to the first Hogsmeade weekend was a special kind of torture for Draco. Instead of the anger that had been haunting him since the first day of term, he was now consumed with a gnawing worry. Now that he’d made his first active move against his father’s wishes, he was panicstricken anyone might find out. 

Potter was still following him. Nott always seemed to be around, with a book in his hands like he thought he was so sneaky. His mother sent him her first letter of the year; he sensed she was worried about him. He’d had to give most of the chocolates she’d sent with it to Greg and Vincent to keep even them from questioning him. 

Even the people he trusted -- Pansy and Blaise, Uncle Severus -- seemed to be looking at him with a worry he wasn’t used to seeing. It made him feel like he was cracking apart in front of everyone.

When he entered the Three Broomsticks that Saturday his hands had already been trembling for an hour. Pansy somehow noticed, despite his best efforts, grabbing his hand and hanging on. Blaise shot him a smile and a wink while they looked for a table.

Looking from the door, Draco glimpsed Luna and Granger already at the big table in the back. He was glad not to see Potter yet. In front of the partial wall that hid the big table Luna and Granger were setting up, Draco spotted an empty table. Draco sat with his back to the partition so he could see the door and would hear them if the spell went wrong. Pansy sat next to him, also adjacent to the window; she’d honed a special skill of covert observation, mostly using pocket mirrors. Blaise sat across from Draco and lounged back in his seat, able to look over Draco’s head at the visible corner of the long table. Draco picked him for the position, knowing that if something did go wrong he’d be the least likely to lose his cool.

Blaise ordered them a round of butterbeers and they sat back to watch the show. Draco took out Luna’s diary, a couple rolls of parchment, and his quill and ink. His friends were slow to follow his lead. Draco knew they thought it was mostly pointless, but Draco needed the cover so he could read any message Luna sent him. Pansy and Blaise thought they were just pretending to study as an excuse to linger. 

He almost wished he could tell them about his correspondence with Luna. But every time he thought of it he remembered Pansy’s face, last year, when he’d gotten out of the carriage with Luna. 

People arrived quickly. Draco wasn’t surprised when he saw what seemed to be all of the fifth year Gryffindors. Longbottom and Thomas came in, practically dragging between them a protesting sandy haired boy that Draco vaguely recalled was named Finnigan. His exploding cauldrons were quite well-known. Once Finnigan got through the door, though, he pulled away to sit down on the other side of the pub from Draco. Thomas and Longbottom looked upset but didn’t push him. 

Brown and Patil came in arm-in-arm. Draco squeezed his quill at the sight. He’d never forget Patil leaving Potter at the Yule Ball to go run off with a half-rate Beauxbaton boy. Draco did a particularly cruel Tripping Jinx on her the first chance he got, she almost fell over the moving stair’s banister. Draco wasn’t sorry. 

The Weasley twins traipsed in like they owned the place with Jordan, their friend the Quidditch commentator. Draco hadn’t expected anybody from the upper years. He narrowed his eyes on the shopping bags they carried. He hoped they were here for support and not to make trouble. He couldn’t imagine they could learn anything from someone two years younger.

The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team showed up, their new captain in the lead. Draco huffed and took a drink so he could look elsewhere. Bloody Gryffindors. If this endeavor messed with their Quidditch practice they’d have only themselves to blame.

Both of the Creevey brothers slunk in next. Draco stopped mid-drink to watch them. The older Creevey may have spent a lot of time watching Potter, but he was rarely sneaky. He stared, until, with a loud clunk as he slammed his drink down, it came to him. Creevey the younger was too young to be in Hogsmeade. He had to be only a second year at best. Draco didn’t want to know how he’d even made it into town.

Draco turned away from the door to write down some of his observations to Luna. 

**I don’t know how the hell he got in here, but you’ve got one Creevey brother too many coming in your direction. He’ll draw suspicion. His older brother is usually the opposite of sneaky.**

_What do you suggest? No one wants to kick him out._

Draco bit his lip in thought. 

**Sit him next to the Weasley twins. And as far behind that partition as possible. We don’t want him spotted. If anyone can cover for him it’s those twins.**

_I think they helped get him here so that shouldn’t be a problem._

**You saw me come in, who was back there with you already besides Granger?**

_Just Ron and Ginny. And Harry of course. He was invisible at first though._

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. He wondered if Luna was serious and Potter was actually invisible or if she meant something else. He supposed it didn’t matter. 

He was distracted when Pansy elbowed him **.** When he looked over, she hissed in his ear. “Is that Susan Bones coming in? Amelia Bones’s niece!”

Draco carefully turned his head at a normal speed. It was indeed Susan Bones. Along with the two fifth year Hufflepuff prefects, and two other boys Draco didn’t know as well, although he thought one might have been a student who had been petrified in second year. The other boy looked snotty, which Draco hadn’t guessed a Hufflepuff could do. Granger must have asked them at a prefect’s meeting without Draco noticing. 

He spoke to Pansy while doing his best to keep his lips from moving. “It appears so. She’ll be either a good ally or very dangerous. She’s got too many ties to the Ministry.”

Draco kept his eyes up while scribbling. 

**Susan Bones, niece of Amelia Bones, Dept. of Magical Law Enforcement head. Watch closely!**

_Okay._

Draco was surprised when the Ravenclaw fifth year’s prefects, Goldstein and the other Patil twin, walked in with two other Ravenclaw boys Draco only sort of recognized from their shared Herbology class. 

Draco lost interest in them just as the Weaselette ran out from behind the partition to kiss one of the two boys Draco didn’t know. She kept it relatively chaste, grabbed his hand, and pulled him on. Draco smiled. 

Blaise laughed from across the table. Draco glared at him, which Blaise ignored. He kept his voice low, though. “Less competition for you with Potter if the girl-weasel is out of the way, huh Draco?”

Draco scoffed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Blaise just sighed. “Too bad for me though. Those Weasleys man. Firecrackers.”

Draco stared at Blaise in horror. “You like gingers?”

Blaise winked. Draco thought he might puke. Pansy snickered.

Draco’s sick feeling intensified when Chang waltzed through the door, a friend in tow. He knew of Potter’s crush on her. On top of that, she was also Cedric’s girlfriend. Draco could imagine why she might want to join a group that was working against both the Dark Lord and the corrupt Ministry, but the sight filled him with something he insisted to himself was pity. She wasn’t likely to reap much benefit from an instructor a year younger, any more than the Gryffindor Quidditch team was. 

When Blaise saw both girls, he narrowed his eyes. “Chang’s friend doesn’t look like she wants to be here.”

Draco jabbed Pansy in the thigh so she would pass him her mirror under the table. When she did, Draco squinted at the girl. She looked a bit like… He hissed. “Edgecombe.”

Pansy and Blaise both gave him weird looks, even as he passed Pansy back her mirror to write to Luna. “Her father is the head of the Floo Network. Father talked to him a couple times over the summer. He’s in Fudge’s pocket. Possibly father’s too.”

Blaise and Pansy both made faces at that. 

**Watch Edgecombe too. I know Potter likes Chang, but Edgecomb’s father is the Head of the Floo Network. My father talked to him over the summer quite a bit.**

_She doesn’t seem terribly happy to be here._

Draco grimaced. 

**I can’t imagine she would be. She’d be going against her father almost as much as I’m going against mine. She must really like Chang. If she doesn’t appear more enthused after this meeting, I’ll handle her.**

_Don’t hurt her._

After reading that, Draco held his quill over the page so long he left an ink blot. And still he didn’t know how to respond. 

**I won’t.**

Draco and his friends chatted more normally amongst themselves as the meeting went on. They couldn’t do anything else unless there was an emergency. But through the whole meeting they never saw a single teacher. A few of the bar patrons had looked curious at how many students were gathering at the one table, but no one seemed to think it was too strange. He heard Rosmerta telling someone she thought it was a gobstones club meeting. 

Over time Draco noticed that Luna was doodling his blot into some sort of picture ... a lion’s mane. Slowly Luna added the other house symbols around it. The eagle was perched on the lion’s back, with the badger half under its paws. The snake curled completely around the front leg opposite the badger. If Draco was being fanciful he might think it looked like the snake was hugging it. Or strangling it. He knew which was more likely.

People were leaving the meeting again when Luna wrote a new message.

_I’m so happy we have people from all the houses!_

**All but Slytherin, you mean.**

_What? We’ve got you!_

Draco closed his eyes for a second. The words left a hollow feeling in his chest.

**I’m out here, though, aren’t I?**

Luna didn’t respond and Draco felt a stab of vindictive satisfaction.

He never saw Potter leave. Draco wondered if he really was invisible. He wouldn’t put it past him. He told himself he wasn’t disappointed.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco received another letter from his mother that Monday. 

  
  
  


Dear Draco,

Communications with you have been sparse this year I know. Vexing though it is to have so little contact, I trust you have been making wise choices at school. I know your father and I are very proud of what we’ve been hearing. Given how proud we are of you, we have a surprise for you come Christmas holidays. I can’t wait for you to find out what it is! Loath as I am to lecture you, you do need to keep practicing your DADA skills. Outstandings are the only grade we expect to see from you in your O.W.Ls. 

Mother

Draco read it through once. Then again. Then he stared at the sign-off his mother had given. 

When Draco was just starting his first year he’d been concerned about other students reading his mail, since they would all be getting it at the same time. His mother had wanted him to write regularly despite his fears, and so they’d set up a system, just the two of them. They had never actually used it before.

If one of them wrote the other a letter without a valediction, the body of the letter contained a secret message. Seeing such a letter from his mother, though, felt like a bayonet to the gut. He hadn’t noticed his breaths quickening, nor how the sounds of the other students around him had faded to a dull buzzing. He only saw the parchment in front of him; that one word: mother. 

Blackness creeping along the edges of his vision alerted him that something was wrong. He snapped his head away, but the blackness followed. He felt like he was underwater. Had he been poisoned? A hand ripped his letter from his hands, and arms practically lifted him up off the bench and started dragging him out of the Great Hall.

He didn’t know where he was being taken and tried to struggle away. It had no effect on whoever was dragging him around. 

The next thing he knew, he was dropped into a chair and his head forced between his knees. Sounds started to seep back into his ears until he could hear an irate Pansy. “Breathe, you idiot! In and out. Come on. In…. and out.”

Draco tried to follow her words, even as his breath kept hitching, snagged somewhere in his chest. The blackness slowly retreated as he persisted, though, so he kept forcing the air in and out. 

A different voice that might have been Uncle Severus’s cut through Pansy’s breathing narration. “Draco, tilt your head back, you need to ingest this.”

Draco sat up slowly, and managed to tilt his head back. Several drops of a potion were dropped down the back of his throat. He thought for a second he might drown, before he remembered to swallow. 

It took a minute for the potion to take effect, but when it did Draco felt every muscle in his body untense. Once he could breathe again, he looked around the room. Uncle Severus's office. Pansy knelt next to him, with a hand on his back, Blaise stood across the room looking at him. Both appeared pale and worried. Draco couldn’t maintain eye contact, so he looked at Uncle Severus instead. _He_ looked nettled. 

Draco groaned and put his head in his hands. “What happened?”

Uncle Severus's voice was clipped when he answered. “You had a panic attack in the Great Hall. Your friends brought you here where I administered a calming draught. Would you care to share what had such an effect on you? I thought you said you were practicing Occlumency?”

Draco groaned again but raised his head to look at the others while he talked. “My mother wrote me a coded letter. We set up the system, but we’ve never had to use it before.” Draco felt like he should feel worried about this. Concerned in some way. But the feelings didn’t quite reach him. “I didn’t realize I was panicking. By the time I did, I couldn’t do anything.”

Uncle Severus grimaced. “You can’t let this become a habit. It’s too dangerous. If you had been at home…. This is the kind of thing Occlumency is supposed to help with.”

Draco took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He didn’t know how to tell Snape that it had. He did get panic attacks at home. And at school. Not like this, but. His father would lecture him and all Draco could think about was how he’d never live up to expectations and his hands would shake and his breathing would get rapid, fear climbing his throat, choking him. 

When he was younger he’d excuse himself and hide in his room in the dark until the suffocating feelings had passed. As he got older, he improved at separating his feelings into boxes, waiting until he was alone to observe them. It was a good exercise for when he started Occlumency. 

When he moved into the dorms, he’d had to find better methods. He paid an older student to cast silencing charms on his bed curtains, he’d had an elf send him a package of calming draught once a month. Then he buried himself in Occlumency lessons. He learned to brew his own calming draughts. He silenced his own curtains. Last year he’d mastered the glamours he used to hide the bruises under his eyes. 

He’d gotten so good at covering he could convince even himself he was fine. 

Draco’s voice croaked out, “It’s not a habit. I won’t let it become one. I’m working hard, I promise.”

When Draco chanced a glance up, he saw Pansy’s glare, her clenched jaw, her wet eyes. Blaise looked shocked, his own jaw halfway to the floor. He closed it and swallowed hard when he saw Draco looking at him. 

Uncle Severus sighed. “Be that as it may, you are in no fit state for classes today. Stay here while you decode your mother’s letter. Merlin knows that’s the first thing you’re going to run off and do anyway, and I would rather you be here in case you need more calming draught. Then I’m sending you straight to the dormitory. I’ll speak to your other teachers at dinner. You’ve clearly been under too much stress. I know it’s O.W.L. year for you, but it is only October.”

Draco nodded his agreement when Blaise interjected, “Sir, can I stay with him while he works on the letter?”

Pansy huffed. “If you’re staying then so am I!”

Draco’s eyebrows flew up in surprise as he looked at Blaise. He might have expected Pansy to stay -- to help or to yell at him for scaring her -- but Blaise had startled him. Blaise didn’t meet his eye, looking over at Snape in determination. Draco smiled, a warm feeling spreading through his chest replacing the earlier cold pain. 

Pansy scoffed. “Look at him, he’s clearly still loopy from the calming draught.”

Draco’s smile quickly dropped and his cheeks heated. 

He looked up at Uncle Severus just in time to catch him rolling his eyes.“Very well. You both can stay with him through first period, and then escort him to the dormitory. I expect to see you in Potions after the break, however.” Pansy and Blaise agreed quickly. Uncle Severus seemed to smile despite himself. “Be thankful for your friends Draco. I’m not sure how you would have managed this… incident, without them.”

Draco met Uncle Severus’s eyes. “I am thankful, sir.”

Uncle Severus nodded once and turned to leave, presumably for a class. 

He left a loaded silence in his wake; Draco let the silence carry on for a few minutes before he addressed his friends. “Please tell me that one of you has my letter?”

Blaise startled a bit, but he held out his hand with Draco’s letter balled up in his fist. Draco raised an eyebrow at the state of it; Blaise scowled. “It was bloody hard to even keep hold of the thing with you thrashing around. Be thankful I saved it at all you barmy arsehole.”

Draco grinned at Blaise as he took his letter. “Thank you.” Pansy made a startled noise next to him. “Both of you. Don’t expect to hear it again though, I’m still loopy on calming draught you know.”

Pansy scoffed, but both of them smiled at him.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took all period, but Draco was sure he’d cracked the letter. His mother wasn’t one for overly complicated codes, preferring to simply talk around subjects instead, and using simple codes when it couldn’t be avoided. He found that if he put together the first letter of each sentence it read: C Vigilio. Vigilio meant to watch in Latin, so Draco assumed that since the C made no sense otherwise, mother meant that he should watch communications, or that communications were being watched. 

Reading the actual content of the letter, the strangest thing she’d done was point out that Draco might need more practise in DADA than any other subject. Draco was good at DADA regularly, and with Umbridge in place he was guaranteed to be top of the class. Draco could only assume that meant that Umbridge was the one watching everyone’s communications. That or father, who was also mentioned in the letter. Either one made sense, especially paired with Draco’s memory of his father having meetings with Edgecombe senior. 

It seemed more like his father was connected to this ‘Christmas surprise’ that Draco could make no headway on figuring out. The enthusiasm his mother showed for it in such a serious letter was not promising. He hoped desperately it had nothing to do with the Dark Lord. 

He finally pushed his letter and the spare parchment away with a groan, startling Pansy and Blaise who were playing wizard’s hangman on the other side of Uncle Severus’s desk.

Blaise folded up the parchment, making the animation of half a hanging man fold in on itself, and shoved it in his bag. “All done then? What did she say?”

Pansy punched him in the shoulder. “Hey! You didn’t need to put it away, I was winning!”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “You were not. And anyway Draco’s problem is more important than hangman. Besides, I saved our game, you daft cow.”

Pansy huffed and crossed her arms, but turned to look at Draco impatiently.

Draco smiled inwardly, but only showed them a less-fond looking smirk. “If you two are done? Mother said that Umbridge is watching the castle‘s communications. And something about Christmas I don’t fully understand.”

Both of his friends wore matching frowns. Pansy uncrossed her arms. “What does that matter to you? Surely the Bitch wouldn’t presume to go through _your_ mail?”

Draco’s smirk dropped along with the amusement he felt at his friend’s antics. “I don’t know. She doesn’t believe the Dark Lord is back, but I thought she favored Death Eater’s children anyway, from her behavior and my father’s talk. Maybe it doesn’t extend as far as I thought it did.”

Draco felt tired. Drained. He didn’t want to think about why Umbridge would go through his mail, or what his father was up to, or even -- he suddenly thought -- how badly this would affect Potter and his friends. If a single one of them wrote about the defence club to someone outside the castle, Potter was ruined. Not even mentioning how many other secrets he was probably keeping from Umbridge. 

The sheer scope of trying to keep that many people quiet and careful gave Draco a headache just thinking about it. He couldn’t help but groan as he laid his head in his arms on the desk.

Draco kept his head down when Blaise spoke. “If she’s watching the Floo as well as owl mail we’re all going to have some problems in an emergency. No Floo-calling our parents, or fast escapes, when the Ministry is watching. They’ll have Aurors at our doors as fast as they can Apparate. It’s even worse for Potter’s gang. If anyone found out the sorts of places Potter went when he’s not at school he could have some real problems.”

Draco had barely thought about the Floo, more immediately worried about the owl mail, but Blaise was right. 

Pansy’s voice was surprisingly gentle when she cut through Draco’s thoughts. “We can talk about that later. We need an excuse for Draco’s leaving the Great Hall earlier. Then we need to get him to bed. You’re not looking too good, darling.“

Draco forced himself to look up and saw her soft look that seemed too close to pity for Draco to feel good about it. He looked away quickly. Pansy sighed, stood, and crossed to Draco’s side of the desk; she combed a hand through the back of his hair.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Blaise shift awkwardly. Draco suddenly wondered if Blaise ever felt left out: Left out of the relationship between him and Pansy, left out of Draco’s gang of Slytherins, left out of the core of pureblood society. As far as Draco knew, Blaise hadn’t been close to anyone else before he threw in with him and Pansy. 

Draco’s voice was hoarser than he meant it to be. “Take notes, Blaise, I expect my hair stroked regularly.”

Pansy gave a startled laugh. “You’re such a ponce.”

Blaise effected a wobbly smirk. “What if I expect my hair stroked?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to wait your turn then, obviously.”

Blaise smiled, before clearing his throat in an effort to stop. “I had an idea for a cover story. I figured we could spread a rumor that someone tried to dose you with Veritaserum, but it was badly made and you had a reaction.”

Pansy hummed in thought. “That could work. It would explain why you went to Snape and not the hospital wing. The most likely culprit would be another Slytherin trying to get information, so it would have the added benefit of making everyone else suck up to you, trying to prove it couldn’t have been them.”

Draco lifted one of his hands, and waved it around vaguely. “I don’t care. That excuse is as good as any other.”

Pansy bumped him with her hip in exasperation. “Alright then, I’ll start spreading it around. Let’s get you to the dorms before you fall asleep at Snape’s desk. I’m not carrying your fat ass.”

Draco sat up and glared; her hand fell away. “My ass is not fat!” Draco whipped around to face Blaise who raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s it! Blaise, you’re on hair stroking duty! Pansy is fired!”

Pansy snorted a laugh. “That’s a riot. And revenge for your comment the other day in the common room, don’t think I forgot. It’s not like it’s a privilege to stroke your hair, darling. You’re just needy.”

Draco felt too tired to bother with maturity. He stuck his tongue out at Pansy and kicked at her shoe. “I am not _needy_. I just have high standards.”

Pansy just shoved his shoulder. “Get up. Come on. Your calming draught is obviously wearing off. You’re going to fall asleep as soon as it leaves your system, you know. I suppose if you want to sleep here, though, I don’t care.”

Draco got up with a sigh. The floor seemed to lurch under him a bit, so Pansy grabbed his shoulder. Draco squeezed his eyes shut for a second to regain his balance; Blaise scrambled to stand on his other side. 

Draco felt more stable, but then, barely out of the office, he lurched forward. Blaise and Pansy jumped to steady him, but Draco wasn’t sure it was exhaustion right then. 

Across the corridor from the Potions classroom next door, was none other than Harry Potter himself. Potter stood alone, leaning on the wall, and his wide eyes had caught Draco’s as soon as he’d crossed the threshold. Even after Draco had been righted, he stood still for almost a minute just looking into Potter’s eyes. Usually Potter was easy to read, but Draco wasn’t sure what he was seeing cross Potter’s face this time. All Draco could think about was Potter’s blood on the floor, and his mother’s letter, and Potter’s own reckless stupidity. 

Potter’s voice cut through the silence of the corridor like a knife. “What happened? I saw you leave the Great Hall at breakfast.”

Draco tried for a sneer, but it felt half-hearted at best. “Why, Potter? Do you _care_?”

Draco practically hissed the word care and Potter recoiled. He felt Pansy and Blaise both fidget, but couldn’t see their faces. 

Draco couldn’t seem to stop while he was ahead. “What’s it matter to you what happens to me, hmm? It’s none of your business, you made that _perfectly_ clear. I don’t need _your_ help.”

Potter finally rallied himself. He stood up straighter and glared. “I wasn’t _offering_ my help Malfoy. I _don’t_ care. Just wondering whose hand I needed to shake later, really.”

Draco heard the words echo around his head on a sadistic loop _I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care._ He suddenly felt tears welling up. He wanted to hide behind his Occlumency walls, but he hadn’t been able to build them back up since his panic attack, his emotions too raw, his mind too tired. 

Draco’s sneer dropped, his exhaustion becoming clear on his face in a way he’d never let happen in front of Potter before. “If you don’t care, leave me alone, Potter. Stop following me around, stop asking questions you don’t want to know the answers to, focus on your own damn problems. I’m sure you’ve got enough of them.”

Potter’s glare faded, slowly. Draco wasn’t sure he liked that any better. The whole thing felt like defeat. Like a resignation Draco had been fighting for years. All he’d ever fought for was to have Potter’s eyes on him, in whatever way he could get. Telling him not to bother with Draco was Draco finally admitting weakness, failure. It tasted bitter. 

Pansy and Blaise seemed to come to an agreement, and before Potter could respond, they were hauling Draco down the corridor towards Slytherin’s common room.

Draco didn’t let them get very far before he lost another battle with himself and stopped, forcing them to stop too. He glared at the floor and refused to turn around when he addressed Potter. “Umbridge is monitoring all communications.”

He heard Potter’s loud “Malfoy, wait-”, but he hurried down the corridor, almost separating from his friends to escape. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pansy and Blaise were silent the rest of the way to the boys’ dorms, the only word between them the password to the common room.

All three sat on Draco’s bed. It was a few minutes before Pansy whispered, “What’s going on Draco?”

Draco’s eyes filled and he put his head in his hands before they spilled out. His voice was small around the lump in his throat. “I don’t know.”

Pansy’s hand on his back and Blaise’s on his shoulder were a warm weight through his shirt. 

Eventually Draco laid down properly, his eyes red-rimmed. Pansy looked regretful as she left for Potions. Blaise looked like he was going to trail after her, uncomfortable. But Draco caught him just before he got up and croaked out. “I thought I told you you were on hair stroking duty.”

Blaise’s eyes had widened a little in surprise before he hid it. His voice was rough. “Snape’s going to be mad if I’m late.”

Draco didn’t respond but Blaise was already adjusting to sit next to where Draco was lying, his back against the headboard, so he could reach down and run a hand through Draco’s hair. 

He was more tentative and gentle than Pansy, but Draco thought he might get used to it. Especially when he saw the suspicious shine in Blaise’s own eyes.


	5. Satisfying Memories of Most Recent Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a series of meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to shout out to the Harry Potter Lexicon. I would not be able to do this without their day by day calendars. It really helps me to know the exact date of all the events. 
> 
> Also another thank you to my editor: FerchKalvaNiibi
> 
> Apologies for how long this took. I am not stopping any time soon so don't worry about that at least!

The next night while studying after dinner, Draco got another message from Luna.

_Harry’s called for our first proper meeting tomorrow night at 8._

Draco scowled down at the page, still sore over all the stress Potter was putting him through, and without even knowing it too. He’d taken the last two nights off prefect duty to catch up on sleep and homework, so he supposed it wasn’t the worst timing. He could have used another day though. 

**Does the Golden Boy even have a meeting place yet?**

_Yes, I think so! He told us it was in a room on the seventh floor across from the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy._

Draco rubbed a hand down his face. The same floor as the Gryffindor tower entrance. 

**Fine. I’ll be there patrolling outside. Most of the other fifth year prefects will be in there, so I shouldn’t run into anyone. I can make sure no one’s around outside when everyone leaves.**

_I’m not sure that’s necessary, but thank you! Maybe I can talk to you after? If it’s late no one will see. You can walk me back to my tower._

Draco just blinked at the notebook for a minute. He suddenly wanted this very much, despite knowing what a bad idea it was. 

**It will be a miracle for us to get away with it without being caught.**

_That’s not a no!_

**Fine. I’ll see you there. I’ll have my book on me, let me know when things are wrapping up.**

_I’m so happy!_

Draco let out a fond sigh of exasperation and smiled down at his notebook, safe as he was from prying eyes, ensconced in his bed curtains.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Draco went right up to the seventh floor after dinner. He had to use the Bloody Baron as a threat to get Peeves to leave, probably attracted there by the mischievous thoughts of Potter’s club. But he was the only one Draco had seen, and at half seven he hid in a secret passage behind another tapestry further up the corridor. 

Almost all the fifth year prefects had tried to get a post on the seventh floor that night, probably to cover their own absences. Draco had put his name in for the corridor by the Gryffindor portrait again. So no one would expect him to have wandered over to this side of the floor. 

Which was why he was so shocked when the tapestry he was hiding behind was ripped back only ten minutes after he’d hidden behind it, with a loud shout of “Malfoy!”

He’d been leaning against the stone wall, casting a _tempus_. At the shout he’d startled, canceling his spell as he fumbled his wand, barely holding onto it as he spun to face his attacker. 

He yelped, “Potter!”

It was indeed Potter. He looked almost as surprised as Draco felt. Draco felt an insane urge to stroke a finger down one of Potter’s raised eyebrows, maybe the one under his scar. He shoved it in the box where he kept all his other strange Potter fantasies and straightened out his robes. 

He was happy his voice was back to his regular drawl when he addressed Potter again. “What are _you_ doing here? I thought I told you to stop stalking me!”

Potter’s eyebrows lowered back into his usual glare. “What am I doing here? What are _you_ doing here? Hiding?”

Draco tsked. “Not that it’s any of your business, Potter, but I _am_ a prefect. I have a patrol tonight.”

“Weren’t you over by Gryffindor tower again?” Potter seemed to have spoken without thinking, snapping his mouth shut as soon as he realized what he’d asked.

Draco arched his own eyebrow . “Keeping track are you?” Draco knew he should feel annoyed, but a persistent satisfaction curled the corner of his mouth up in a mocking smile. 

Red spread up Potter’s neck and over his cheeks as Draco watched, in vicious happiness at having so flustered Potter. Potter opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he was able to spit any words out. “You’ve been… weird! All year!” He huffed a deep breath to calm down. “You’re up to something, Malfoy. I don’t trust you. Until I figure out what you’re up to, I’m not taking my eyes off you.”

Draco shivered at the seriousness in Potter’s voice. Was he afraid? Or aroused? Potter’s green eyes burned. Draco’s smile fell.

Draco felt he should be worried. But he also wanted Potter’s eyes on him more than he’d ever wanted anything. He took a step forward without realising. The passage they were in was small enough that Draco could feel Potter’s breath on his face, but Potter didn’t back up, still glaring at him. 

Draco leaned forward. Potter’s eyes got wider the closer he got. Draco felt the sudden tension when he leaned into his ear and hissed. “If I were up to something, Potter, you’d be the first to know.”

Potter startled away from Draco, who pushed past him and through the tapestry. 

He fancied he could feel Potter’s eyes burning through his back all the way up the corridor.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Potter’s arrival had to mean the others would arrive shortly, so Draco positioned himself near the Gryffindor portrait -- where he was actually supposed to be -- until they’d all shown up and he could guard the door.

He sent a quick message to Luna; a half hour later she responded that everyone was there. 

He paced up and down the corridor outside for ages, wishing that he could hear what Potter and the others were doing. His only interruption came from Mrs. Norris, who scampered off when Draco showed her his prefect badge and told her he was on patrol. There was something weird about that cat, but Draco knew enough about magic to know better than to look into it.

When Luna finally, _finally,_ sent him a message saying that things seemed to be wrapping up, he wandered back over to the other side of the floor. 

He’d almost reached the abandoned classroom he’d told Luna to meet him in when he glimpsed a Gryffindor running up the hall ahead of him, probably heading back to the portrait. Draco stared for a bit, before placing the Gryffindor as Finnigan. Draco couldn’t help but wonder what Finnigan had been doing out of bed on this night in particular. 

Draco tapped the door frame twice in agitated indecision before giving it up and walking in. If Finnigan was heading back to his common room, Draco wouldn’t see anything useful, and if he swanned off now he’d miss Luna entirely. 

But still Draco wondered, pacing the dusty classroom. Finnigan had been dragged to the Three Broomsticks by his dormmates, so he might know about Potter’s club. Draco might think that Finnigan and Potter didn’t get along, but they’d always been friendly before. 

Then again look at him and Nott. 

Did Finnigan really not believe Potter after sharing a room with him for four years? After being friends with Potter? Draco had never been that close, never been _allowed_ that close, and he’d been prepared to believe anything Potter said just seeing his face after the maze. 

The simmering anger under Draco’s skin, present since the beginning of the year, began to burn. 

Draco was startled out of his thoughts by the door opening. Draco froze, one hand still in his hair. Slowly one large grey eye peaked around the door, followed by a blinding smile and a cloud of blonde hair. 

Recognizing Luna, Draco blew out a sigh and slowly lowered his hand. It was strange seeing Luna in person again. He’d only half looked at her in that first meeting in the first place, and had avoided her in public all year. It made Draco unusually nervous, afraid that maybe this girl wasn’t who he’d been talking to after all. 

But Luna came all the way in the door with no hesitation and stopped about half a meter away. They both looked at each other for a few seconds, before Luna cut the tension in a cheery voice. “Hi, Draco! I’m quite pleased to see you in person. Is it alright to hug you?”

Draco blinked slowly a couple of times, half wondering if the person in front of him would disappear. “Er, hello Luna. I… suppose that would be okay.”

Luna grinned even wider, if possible, and threw her arms around Draco’s shoulders. Draco carefully wrapped his own arms around her, noticing that she had gone up on her toes to reach his shoulders. He awkwardly patted her back a couple times. 

He wasn’t really used to casual hugs. Proper pureblood boys were not meant to display much affection, as it showed weakness and vulnerability. Pansy and, recently, Blaise, were the only friends of Draco’s prone to physical affection, but the three of them tended more toward casual leaning or dramatic draping than hugging. His mother hugged him, rarely. He couldn’t remember his father ever doing so. 

Draco found it wasn’t too bad.

Luna pulled back after a few seconds and smiled at him again. Draco attempted a smile back. “Shall we go then?”

Draco turned and offered Luna his right arm. She was quick to bounce forward and slide her hand around Draco’s elbow. “How exciting! I’ve never been properly escorted before.”

Draco’s smile eased as they left the classroom and walked toward the stairs to the fifth floor. Looking down at Luna something prickled the back of his mind. “You know, now that we’re face-to-face again, I can’t help but notice that we have quite similar coloring. I don’t think I’ve seen a non-Malfoy with hair as blonde as me before.”

Luna hummed a bit. “Well… my mother’s maiden name was Malfoy you know. Mother didn’t talk about her family much, but I gathered that she was disowned. We’re probably cousins.” Luna looked back up at Draco in excitement. “I didn’t know I had any cousins.”

Draco gaped down at Luna. He supposed it was possible. If Luna’s mother had really been disowned then it made sense Draco hadn’t come across her when he studied the family line. He’d never personally met many of his relatives on his father’s side, his mother was much closer to her Black relatives. However….

Draco managed to close his mouth. He felt his expression softening against his will. “I’d be honored to have you as a cousin, however unsubstantiated. What was your mother’s first name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Luna gave him one more smile before it melted into an intense, thoughtful look and she looked away toward the stairs. “Pandora. Pandora Malfoy Lovegood. I loved her a lot. She was quite smart, and talented. She was always trying to create new spells, I’m not sure she was trying to do anything in particular, I think she just liked the experimentation. The last one she was working on was quite blue. I was in the room, but she was able to shield me when the spell backfired.”

Even though Luna talked like it didn’t hurt, Draco sensed an underlying pain, still, after all these years. Draco wondered if Luna acted like it didn’t hurt because she thought it shouldn’t. Draco kept his voice low as if trying not to be overheard. “I’m sorry she died. I’ve never lost anyone before, so I can’t say I know how it feels, but I am sorry you lost her. She sounds exceptional, I would have loved to meet her. My estranged cousin.”

Luna scuffed her shoe along the floor. “You would have gotten along, I think. I’ve noticed you also like solving puzzles. You don’t have to be sorry though, I wouldn’t be me if it hadn’t happened, so wishing it away is like wishing parts of myself away too. I’m sure I’ll see her again, eventually.”

Draco scoffed before he could stop himself. Luna turned to look at him. Draco met her eye against his better judgement. “It’s just. I wish away parts of myself all the time. Wish away, push down, ignore. I can’t imagine you would be someone else with your mother around. You’d just be you, but happier. If people are going to wish away parts of themselves anyway, it may as well be the sad parts.”

Luna’s eyes looked liquid in the dark. She stopped walking to face him. Draco swallowed heavily. “You shouldn’t wish away parts of yourself, Draco, things get better when you embrace all parts of yourself. I love even the parts of me that miss my mom terribly. Besides, if you weren’t who you are right now, we might not be friends.”

Draco couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore. No one had ever talked to him like that. Had ever said that he was fine the way he was. Everyone always wanted him to be better: better at studies, better at Occlumency, better at Quidditch, a better heir. He wasn’t sure he remembered a time where he could let himself relax and be who he was. 

Draco cleared his throat and offered his arm again. “We’d best keep moving, the longer we take the more likely we’ll run into someone else.”

Luna moved to retake his arm and gave it an extra squeeze as they walked. They were silent for several minutes as they approached the spiral stairs that led to Ravenclaw tower. 

Luna seemed content, but the silence was unsettling for Draco. The only thing he could think to say was the one thing that had been on his mind all night. “Potter found me before your meeting. I’m not sure how, I was hiding in an alcove behind a tapestry. I think maybe he was stalking me again somehow. Did he say anything?”

“Oh!” Luna skipped a bit. “That’s wonderful! Did you tell him you’d be guarding the door?”

Draco sneered, trying not to trip over himself. “Of course not! I don’t need Potter to think I’m _helping_ him.” Potter didn’t want his help anyway. 

Luna abruptly stopped trying to skip. “You mustn’t take anything he might have said to you to heart. He’s been dealing with quite the Wrackspurt problem. They make your thoughts all fuzzy you know.”

Draco glared down at the floor. “No, I don’t know. And anyway, we’re enemies! Of course I should take what he says to heart. Potter and I aren’t meant to get along, even if we do both hate Umbridge.”

“Why do you hate Umbridge, Draco? She’s never done anything to you or your friends.” Luna was looking as far away from Draco as she could be, as if she knew how hard Draco would find the question. 

Draco opened his mouth and closed it again. He knew he hated Umbridge because she was torturing Potter and working with Draco’s father. His own father who was also set on hurting Harry. Potter. But he couldn’t say any of that. 

Draco did want to hurt Potter. To make his friends grow buck teeth until Potter’s eyes filled with rage and panic, to make Potter look as foolish as he really was by luring him out in the middle of the night, to put Potter in his place and show him just how much better Draco himself was. To get his hands on Potter and push him around. To make Potter do things for Draco. 

For all that Draco wanted to hurt Potter, he didn’t want to hurt him like _they_ did. He didn’t want to ever see Potter lying over the body of a dead friend, or alone and bleeding in an abandoned corridor after dark. 

If Potter didn’t want him as a friend he’d get Draco as an enemy, and as Potter’s enemy, his only _chosen_ enemy, Draco was the only one who should be allowed to hurt Potter. 

But that sounded crazy. An obedient heir would do what his father told him. He’d want his father to kill Potter to gain status, he’d want Umbridge to make a fool of Potter to further the Dark Lord’s plans. Umbridge was doing what no other teacher but Snape did, treating the Slytherins with a certain degree of respect, when the rest of the school looked down their noses at them. This should be Draco’s _year._

Instead he was floundering with what he really wanted worse than ever. He didn’t _want_ to be Potter’s enemy. He wanted to be his friend. He wanted to be just _his_. But if he was only getting to be his enemy, he wanted to be his _only_ enemy. This was the first time holding that place at school was putting him on the same side as Potter, and it was messing with Draco’s head. Draco could already feel how badly this was all going to end, but he couldn’t stop it. 

Draco felt his heart race, his lungs constrict. He forced himself to breathe as deeply as he could a few times until the feeling faded a bit. “I found out something Umbridge is doing. I can’t tell you what it is, but it’s bad. I can’t let her get away with it without retribution. What if she turned it on the Slytherins? Or-” Draco faltered at just the thought. “Or you. I can’t do nothing.”

Luna’s question had brought them almost halfway up the stairs. Luna pressed closer to him, in a sort of side-hug. “Thank you for worrying about me, Draco.”

They were quiet the rest of the way to the top.

When they got to the door Luna let go of Draco’s arm, and instead of grabbing the handle, turned to look at him. Draco met her eyes for a second before glancing away. Luna had a look like she could see your soul. “It’s okay for you to have feelings for him. It doesn’t make you a bad person. Love can only be a good thing you know.”

Draco’s eyes watered against his will and he turned further away. His voice was thick when he answered her. “Not when it’s us. When it’s me.”

He was stupid for trying to keep his secret from Luna. He’d never met someone more intuitive. 

Luna’s voice lost some of the airiness she usually spoke with. “Can I hug you again?”

Draco choked, but nodded his assent. 

He was better prepared this time when Luna threw her arms around him. He was so thankful he’d made this friend, that she was who she was. He squeezed her tight briefly, half wanting to keep her close so that no one like Umbridge could hurt her. Somehow he managed to let her go. He might have sniffled a little. “You don’t have to keep asking you know. We are friends.”

Luna stepped away and beamed at him again. “‘I’ve found it’s always good manners to ask, at least the first few times. Some people don’t like hugs. I’m glad you do though. You seem like someone who needs one.”

Draco managed a watery smile. 

Luna turned toward the door knocker now and gave it a rap. Draco raised an eyebrow when it spoke. “How many paths must a person walk?”

Luna turned toward Draco. “What do you think?”

Draco glared at the door knocker. “You have to answer a question to get in? That doesn’t seem very secure.”

Luna tilted her head towards him. “I’m sure it’s fine. I quite like the questions.”

“Well, what even kind of question is that?” Draco went on indignantly. “It depends how old someone lives to be. They could walk hundreds of paths. Or the opposite, what if someone has no legs or something? Then they aren’t walking any paths at all!”

Luna turned and looked back at Draco. She seemed to think quite hard for a minute before smiling again. “They have to walk the path they’re on!”

The door knocker seemed rather chuffed about her answer and swung open. Draco gaped at Luna for a few seconds. Then he sighed. “I suppose.”

Luna patted Draco’s arm. “It’s alright Draco, sometimes the right answer is hiding in plain sight.”

Draco shook his head. “Whatever you say Luna.” Draco suddenly remembered something. “Oh! Before you go, was Edgecombe any better after this meeting?”

Luna actually pursed her lips. Not a good sign. “You really should speak with her.”

Draco gritted his teeth and jerked his head in agreement. She wasn’t a problem that could sit. “I will. You’d best get to bed before we really are caught.”

Luna gave him one more quick squeeze before turning away with a chipper, “Goodnight Draco!” and waving as she entered her common room. 

Draco found himself waving back, despite her inability to see him. Once the door was closed he felt a bit silly and lowered it, looking around to make sure nobody saw him. When he turned away it was with renewed determination. 

If Edgecombe was the problem Draco was going to be damn sure he fixed it.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco decided to divulge his plan of attack at breakfast the next morning. Although tired, Draco was filled with a manic energy to get this done, which he could tell Pansy did not share. She had stationed herself around Ravenclaw Tower last night, to dissuade people from hanging around when Draco brought Luna back, now she chugged coffee. 

As soon as Draco turned to her, the glow of a good scheme about him, she held a finger up in his face. “No. I need at least two more cups of coffee before I will deal with whatever this is.”

Blaise laughed and Draco winced as they watched her knock another mug of coffee back. Blaise gulped his own pumpkin juice, setting it down with a dramatic thump. “I am more and more thankful every day that I wasn’t made a prefect. I need my beauty sleep.” 

Pansy slammed her mug down with less drama and more exhausted anger. “We don’t _need_ to stay out so late on patrol. It’s all Draco’s fault! I look like someone’s boggart.”

Draco frowned as he looked Pansy over. The dark circles under her eyes seemed to take up half her face, her eyes bloodshot and seemingly bulging out of her eye sockets the more coffee she downed. He may have felt a bit of guilt.

Draco sighed as Pansy poured another mug. “Fine. As recompense for the late nights and this new favor I am about to ask you, I will show you the glamour I use on my dark circles. Provided you keep it to yourself.”

Blaise leaned in further in interest at Draco’s offer. Pansy, however, only glared at him. “Let’s hear this new favor first. If it’s another late night tonight, no glamour in the world could hide the sight of me passed out on the floor.”

Draco sat up straighter in his seat, glad to finally get to his new mission. “Edgecombe is still a threat. I want to put a tail on her for a few days to get a look at her state of mind. Once I’ve sussed her out, I plan to confront her. Scare her out of Potter’s group entirely, preferably, but at the very least, I want to scare her away from telling Umbridge anything.”

Blaise glanced suspiciously around behind him at the mention of Potter’s group. The closest people to them were Vincent, Greg, and Milli sitting a few seats down from Pansy, but Draco had already cast a _muffliato_ as soon as he had sat down, so he wasn’t worried. 

Pansy closed her eyes and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “And why do I have to be involved in this?”

Draco grimaced and tapped the side of her shoe with his foot at her lack of appreciation for his idea. “I can’t very well follow her around. For one thing, it’s creepy when a man follows a girl around, and for another, I’ve still got Potter following _me_ around.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought you told him off for that? He’s been actively avoiding you the last two days.”

Draco scowled. “He found me at the start of my patrol last night. I was hiding next to Potter’s meeting place in an alcove behind a tapestry. If he didn’t follow me, I have no idea how he would have found me.” Draco fought down a blush, remembering how close they’d been in that little alcove, how close Draco had dared to step with his self preservation drowned out by his feelings for Potter. “He outright _told me_ he was going to keep following me because he thought I was up to something.”

Blaise smirked teasingly across the table. “Oh _did he_. And what words did he say _exactly_?”

Draco glared down at the table, having lost the fight as he blushed up his neck. “He said,‘Until I figure out what you’re up to, I’m not taking my eyes off you.’” 

Blaise wolf whistled. “Bet you liked that.”

Pansy chimed in, as usual, just when Draco least wanted her to. “Any other year and you’d be practically preening at such an accomplishment.” Pansy elbowed him gently in the arm. “Maybe you should just tell him that you’d never leave his side if he just asked.”

Pansy laughed at her own joke while Blaise pretended to swoon into someone’s arms. Draco glared at him, his impressions were nowhere near Draco’s own calibre, he didn’t sound like Draco at all. “Oh Potter~ All you have to do is ask, and I’m yours forever! Oh, Potter, take me now~”

Draco kicked him as hard as he could in the shin, making him almost fall off the bench as he overbalanced.

Draco turned his glare on Pansy, now much less guilty about her eye bags. “Are you going to help me with Edgecombe or not?”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Fine. But only if Milli can help me. I won’t tell her why we need to follow Edgecombe, just that you want information on her. And I get to share the glamour with her, since she’s helping.”

Draco gave her a dirty look. “Alright, I agree to your terms. As long as Milli agrees to help, it shouldn’t be a problem. But you’ll not tell Milli where you got the glamour. I don’t need the whole damn house knowing I use it.”

Draco and Pansy shook hands under the table to seal the deal, and Draco spent the rest of breakfast teaching Pansy the glamour.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

With Pansy occupied following Edgecombe, Draco was able to focus on planning his Weasley revenge. Davies had come back with news that the Weasel was a nervous player to an almost unbelievable degree. Draco had never been so pleased. 

His information from the couple of Slytherin first years he’d managed to slip into the Weasley twins’ trials were a different story. Draco was pleased to find that instead of the out-and-out destructive inventions he’d been half expecting, they were actually developing useful, and in some cases, outright clever, objects. Draco decided to keep the spies working, with the intent to buy any newly for sale items, personally, as soon as they went on the market. 

Montague had tried to outright reject the idea, but he wasn’t a hard obstacle to overcome with Vincent and Greg behind him. Draco was glad he was the only one with any real objections though, with his fall out with Theo- Nott, so recent in everyone’s memory.

Draco had made the mistake of mentioning this to Blaise, and had been dealing with Blaise’s moodiness ever since. With Pansy and Milli gone, this meant Draco was dealing with it on his own. How Blaise could think that Draco would rather deal with a homophobic prick with a direct line to his father over him, Draco could not fathom.

True to his word, Potter had gone right back to following him around. Now that Draco wasn’t so stressed, he allowed himself to bask in the attention while he worked on homework and song lyrics. 

He was having such a good time pretending that Potter wasn’t hosting a barely legal defence club, that he hardly noticed when the weekend was over and Monday approached again. 

At lunch, Draco was reenacting Potter blowing up his cauldron in Potions that morning to Vincent, Greg, and Blaise, when Pansy and Milli dropped down beside him, bumping him into Blaise’s side. “Watch it, you-”

Pansy glared him into cutting himself off. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Sorry darling.”

Draco pushed down his irritation and graced Pansy with a small smile. “That’s alright, dear. Do you have anything to tell me about the Edgecombe situation?”

Milli leaned around Pansy to answer before she could. “She’s dead boring. She follows every single rule, hangs out with the same goody-good type girls, has no apparent romantic interest in anyone, and writes to her parents every other day. She’s even middling in every subject! She’s the most boring person I’ve ever seen!”

Draco raised both eyebrows, as Milli wasn’t usually so outspoken. Edgecombe must be bad. “Nothing?”

Pansy crossed her arms and scowled. “Nothing. You’ll have to use your connection to her father and hope that’s enough.”

Well that wasn’t ideal. Draco was prepared for it though. 

He cast a _muffliato_ and leaned forward to apprise the rest of his plan.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edgecombe had Potions after lunch. Draco planned on ambushing her on the way out, while they were still in Slytherin territory. 

He positioned himself carefully, casually leaning up against the wall of a side hallway as she passed with three of her friends, one of them the infamous Cho Chang. He appeared alone and relaxed, the perfect bait. He yelled out to her. “Edgecombe!”

She and her whole group stopped and turned to stare at Draco. Only Edgecombe’s face lit up with recognition, quickly followed by fear. He was surprised her voice didn’t shake. “What do you want? I need to get to Divination.”

Draco allowed a slow smirk to crawl across his face. “I have a message for you.”

Edgecombe’s eyes widened. Chang must have noticed how uncomfortable Edgecombe was, because she stepped in front of her and addressed Draco with a glare. “Marietta doesn’t want any messages from you. You should leave her alone.”

Draco was surprised. He wondered if Chang was still upset at him for his last Quidditch foul on her. An elbow to the neck wasn’t very subtle. 

Draco nodded his head in Edgecombe’s direction. “She’ll find that she _does_ want this message. I have some… important information for her.”

He could just see Edgecombe behind Chang swallow hard and gather herself. “It’s fine Cho. Our- our fathers know each other. It might be important.”

Draco wanted to grin as he watched Chang turn toward Edgecombe in shock. She clearly hadn’t known that. Potter had been loud enough last year telling everyone he knew that Draco’s father had been in that graveyard. This should put a dent in their friendship. If Potter was intent on having Chang around him, this might help make her less dangerous. The other two girls with them were even tittering over it together behind Chang and Edgecombe. 

Draco suppressed the grin, and frowned at the two of them. “I’m afraid it is important.” Draco glared at Chang in a not-at-all-feigned way. “And private. I doubt you want your friends to hear it.”

Edgecombe shot a sideways look at her friends. “Why don’t you head up to Divination without me? This could take a minute and Divination is pretty far away. I wouldn’t want us all to be late.”

Chang was the last to walk away, and even then she shot a nasty look over her shoulder. Draco sneered at her and flipped her two fingers. She scoffed but hurried to catch up with their other friends.

Draco motioned Edgecombe to follow him down the rarely used side hallway. She glanced back in the direction of her friends before following him. Once Draco was in position he turned and smiled at her, feeling like a shark about to swallow small, helpless, mackerel whole. 

Edgecombe managed to break the tense silence Draco was purposely allowing to drag on. “What was the message? I don’t- I don’t want to be too late.”

“There’s a rumor going around, you see, Edgecombe. One of particular interest to us.” When Draco said the word ‘us’ he heard his Slytherin companions emerge from their hiding places along the hall behind him. After much consideration, he’d decided it was safe enough to invite the whole group of Pansy, Blaise, Milli, Vincent, and Greg, as long as he was careful what he gave away. They all stayed near the walls, leaning unconcernedly. 

Edgecombe’s eyes darted from person to person in a wild manner, taking a half-step back. Her voice was shaking worse than ever now. “I- I don’t know what- what you’re talking about.”

Draco crossed his arms and dropped his smile for a sneer, leaning into his drawl for emphasis. “Please. Spare us the idiocy. We heard that you and Chang were involving yourselves with something Potter is doing. I just wanted to see how true it was before I let my father know.”

Edgecombe shook her head in panicked denial. “No! No! Why would I want anything to do with Potter!? My father would kill me if he thought I was doing anything involving Potter!”

Draco smiled again and dropped his arms, taking two steps forward, until he was only a couple steps away from Edgecombe. “Let’s _hope_ this is only a rumor, Edgecombe. If I find out you're working against Umbridge…”

Edgecombe took another step back, prompting Draco’s company to perk up and Vincent and Greg to take a step forward. Edgecombe stopped in her tracks. “I’m- I’m not, I swear!”

Draco waved a lazy hand behind him, vaguely gesturing to his friends. “We’re all watching now Edgecombe. Slip up once and we’ll see it. Think about it and we’ll _know_ . You put one toe out of line and not only will Umbridge know, but so will your father _and mine_. You don’t want that kind of reputation Edgecombe. You wouldn’t last five minutes with that over you.”

“I promise!” Edgecombe was practically crying now. Draco half wanted to roll his eyes. 

Draco snapped at her. “Then leave! And see that you don’t.”

Edgecombe turned and ran, almost tripping twice. 

When he was sure Edgecombe was gone he turned back toward his friends. “Alright, good job. She shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

Milli raised an eyebrow, still leaning against a wall. “Does this mean we have to keep watching her? As much as I enjoyed following the wimp, I don’t fancy continuing.”

Pansy shot Milli a side-eye. “It wasn’t as bad as all that.”

Milli raised her other eyebrow. “Really? You weren’t bored out of your mind?”

Draco cleared his throat before Pansy could respond. “No, you won’t need to keep following her. Her own paranoia will be enough to undo her. If we all just keep a casual eye on her we should spot anything.”

Draco stopped listening as the conversation around him slowly dissipated. He hoped his Slytherin compatriots heeded him and didn’t follow her around. He planned to keep a close eye on her himself now. She had two courses of action. If Draco scared her properly, she should quit Potter’s group and cease to be a problem. In which case she needed to tell one of Potter’s gang that she quit and Draco had to keep his group from seeing her. 

If he failed, she was headed straight to Umbridge.


	6. Died Rather Than Betray Your Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new decree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this Chapter took a bit longer, right after I posted the last one I got a new job, and with the virus stuff going on it's especially busy as it's a pharmacy tech job. Thank your health care workers! Doctors are so busy they can't always answer their phones around here. 
> 
> Thanks again to my beta: FerchKalvaNiibi

Draco had asked Luna to help him keep track of Edgecombe until she made her decision. He’d been apprehensive at first, not wanting to involve Luna in some of the less savory things he got into, but in the end had given in. He simply could not ignore that Luna had an edge with being a fellow Ravenclaw. 

Draco spent his spare time smarming up to Umbridge, hoping to be around if Edgecombe gave in to the temptation. It was horribly taxing. Everytime he complimented her Ministry reforms he felt the urge to vomit. All he wanted to do was sit her down and make her use her stupid Black Quill on herself. 

He only got away with it for about two days. It was at that point a problem he had all but forgotten about reared its head again. He’d been ignoring Vincent and Greg. He normally tutored them quite extensively as a sort of repayment to their fathers for ordering them to listen to Draco. 

So when Greg waylaid him after dinner on Wednesday he shouldn’t have been surprised. Greg was oddly shy when he caught Draco’s sleeve just before he turned toward the Defence classroom. “Hey, Draco? I know you’ve been busy, but I don’t understand the Potions essay.”

Draco sighed in exasperation. He wanted to be more annoyed than he actually was. It was his own fault for not paying attention. “Where’s Vincent? If I’m going to go over it, I’d rather only do it once.”

Greg actually blushed and looked away. “He’s not having as much trouble with it. Besides…”

Greg trailed off and Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Besides…. What?”

Greg kicked his foot against the flagstones. “Besides, we told each other we were going to do our best without your help this year. What with… stuff going on, we knew you’d be busy. And it’s O.W.L. year besides.”

Draco was oddly touched. He knew if he were a better person he would pay more attention to his two lackeys, but besides being good listeners when he wanted to rant at someone, they didn’t have many useful or interesting qualities. It was hard to have a conversation with someone so far behind him. Still he softened his accusing tone. “You know you’re not great at studies. Without any help you might not pass.”

Greg met Draco’s eyes again, now that his blush had faded. He smiled a crooked smile and shrugged with his whole body. “Don’t matter much now, does it? Have to pass our O.W.L.s alone. We get to drop anything we’re really bad at next year. And with the Dark Lord…”

Draco grimaced and shushed Greg, his eyes darting around the Entrance Hall. They were far enough away from the doors to the Great Hall that none of the passing students seemed to have heard Greg. Draco hissed out between his teeth. “Not here, doofus.”

Greg grimaced in turn and seemed to look at least a little contrite. He grunted out a “Sorry”, looking ready to bolt. 

Draco nudged his arm. “Fine, I’ll help you. Let’s go to the Library. I’m assuming you don’t want Vincent to know you’ve asked?”

Greg gave his arm a bewildered look before nodding his agreement. Draco turned away from him to start marching off, hiding his embarrassment at having shown any sort of physical affection. He was getting far too complacent with all these friends he had now. “Let’s go then.”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


All through the evening he was plagued with anxiety. By the time he’d finished helping Greg, the library was closing and it was far too late to go see Umbridge. He’d sent a message to Luna asking about Edgecombe as soon as he’d made it to his dorm. She’d assured Draco that she hadn’t so much as left the tower since dinner.

None of that helped the persistent feeling of doom that crept over him. It felt like the situation was slipping through his fingers. Like his father’s cold hand clamped over the back of his neck when he made a mistake in public. He was barely able to sleep, when he did manage it it was light and filled with flashes of blood and his father’s eyes.

Draco saw he’d been right to panic when Pansy slammed a notice down on the table in front of him as soon as he sat down at breakfast. She didn’t say anything, only giving him a grim look.

Draco swallowed heavily, then read, in a dead voice. “By order of Hogwarts High Inquisitor Dolores Jane Umbridge: no student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.”

Draco set the parchment back on the table and closed his eyes. He was careful to breathe and shore up his Occlumency shields against the onslaught of panic he could already feel building as he read. He couldn’t afford another public attack like before. 

When he was ready, he slowly opened his eyes. He noticed Blaise must have sat down while his eyes were closed. Draco turned to Pansy, letting himself recognise how worried both her and Blaise looked. He took one more breath in and out. His voice was hushed and tight when he was able to get it out. “Put up a Muffliato Pansy. Now.”

Pansy frowned. “I already did before you sat down. But we can’t keep doing this in the Great Hall, other Slytherins will say something. That we’re conspiring against the house.”

Draco gave an impossibly dry laugh. “Well we are, aren’t we? Slytherins are flocking to Umbridge like nifflers to gold! They don’t know that one wrong step, one word against her, and they’ll end up tortured!”

Pansy let out an audible gasp, her mouth open in shock, one of her hands raising to cover it. Blaise’s butter knife hit the table with a clatter. Draco dragged his hands down his face as hard as he could, not wanting to see Blaise’s face. He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have said that. There was no way they wouldn’t ask questions. 

Draco groaned, reopening his eyes. “I can’t be here right now. Let’s go back to the common room to talk. I can’t even think of eating anymore and no one should be there.”

His friends both merely nodded in acceptance of this and stood, Pansy subtly canceling her charm. 

Draco saw Potter and a bunch of other Gryffindors poring over the same decree on his way out of the hall. Potter had looked up almost as soon as Draco had spotted him, a glare already on his face. But Potter had only looked at Draco for a second before the glare had melted into surprise. Draco had had to look away, not having the fortitude to deal with Potter. Draco thought he must look truly pathetic to cause such a reaction.

The three of them were silent down to the dungeon, or at least Draco thought they were, as lost in his own thoughts as he was. 

They practically fell onto a couch in the back of the common room under the biggest window to the lake. Blaise cast some muffling charms around the couch with a detached air. Pansy was clinging to Draco’s arm. 

As soon as Blaise finished Pansy was accosting Draco, her voice shrill. “What do you mean torture? What do you know! Why didn’t you _tell us!_ ”

Draco rubbed at his temple remembering his fateful encounter with Potter almost a month ago. He really wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told Pansy and Blaise about Potter. It was just… He’d never seen Potter so vulnerable. 

The kneazle was out of the box now anyway. Draco looked into the empty fireplace across the room instead of his friends while he spoke. “I did run into Potter while doing patrol around Umbridge’s office the last night Potter had detention. I found out what Umbridge was making Potter do and Potter blackmailed me not to tell anyone.”

Blaise put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco turned and caught Blaise’s eye, his dark eyes were lacking all the life Daco usually saw there. “What did she do?”

Draco swallowed, looking down at his hands that were tangled together. He imagined what they would look like with words carved into them and squeezed them tighter. “She’s using a Black Quill on him. Having him write over and over until the words don’t go away.”

Blaise’s breath hitched audibly, his hand tightening its grip on Draco’s shoulder, and Pansy let go of Draco entirely to lean back against the couch in horror. Pansy’s voice was muffled, her hands over her face. “So that’s why you hate Umbridge so much! You’re such a prat Draco! You should have told us!”

Draco grimaced. “I don’t know why I didn't really. He said he’d tell people I helped him if he found out I told someone about his detentions, but I doubt he’d find out I told you two.” Draco squeezed his eyes shut, pushing back the images that tried to break through his mental shields, and spoke in a barely discernible whisper. “He was bleeding. I’ve never seen him so ....”

Blaise slid his arm to Draco’s other shoulder and pulled Draco’s head down onto Blaise’s chest. “It’s not your fault Umbridge found out what Potter was doing. You did everything you could. More than anyone could have expected.”

Draco couldn’t help turning to hide his face in Blaise’s shirt. He could already feel tears gathering. His voice was thick. “It had to be Edgecombe. She must have panicked and told while I was stuck tutoring Greg! Maybe if I hadn’t frightened her none of this-”

“Shut up, you great idiot.” Pansy poked Draco hard just under his shoulder blade and then left her hand there. “It was a good plan. We wouldn’t have let you do it if it wasn’t. There wasn’t any other way really. Better now than later when she would know even more.”

Draco’s entire torso shook with his sob. Pansy’s hand flinched away and Blaise tensed before bringing his other hand up to stroke through Draco’s hair. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco had managed to pull himself together in time to head to History of Magic after breakfast, Pansy catching him before they left and casting the glamour he’d taught her on his puffy red eyes.

He was taking lackadaisical notes when he noticed that Luna had sent him a message. 

_Harry called a meeting for tomorrow night. Are you coming again?_

Draco bit his lip hard, but didn’t hesitate to write back.

**Yes. Meet me again afterwards, same place.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


The wait for the meeting to be over was almost unbearable. Potter hadn’t come to find him beforehand this time. Draco wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but it did leave Draco alone, his anxiety building. 

At one point, a second year Gryffindor had passed by, on a dare from his friends to find the kitchens. Draco had been so irate he’d reduced the boy to tears. He spent the rest of the time waiting trying not to feel bad about it while staring at the notebook waiting for Luna’s message.

When she finally sent it Draco bolted for the empty classroom. 

He was speed walking with such a single-minded focus that he collided with what felt like someone’s back head on. Draco managed to keep his feet, but his inadvertent victim let out a shocked screech and tumbled face-down onto the floor. 

Draco recognized Finnigan before Finnigan had recovered. He quickly fixed his expression into something more condescending and less alarmed. Draco was haughtily fixing his robes when Finnigan turned over and jumped to his feet.

His glare was twice as angry as Potter’s, and 20 times less attractive in Draco’s opinion. He didn’t even bother to keep his voice down. “What the fuck! What’d you run into me for, tosser!”

Draco sniffed and turned his head away from Finnigan. “It was you who wasn’t paying attention. And you're out of bed after curfew.”

As Finnigan practically snarled at him, Draco had a brilliant idea. It wouldn’t fix things entirely but maybe it would help. 

Draco smirked. “You’d do well to stay on my good side, Finnigan. You do know who my father is, don’t you?”

Finnigan scoffed. “Everyone knows who your no-good father is, Malfoy. He’s nothing but a corrupt Death Eater!”

Draco met Finnigan’s eyes with purpose and grinned. Finnigan frowned harder, unsettled at Draco’s reaction, even taking a half-step back. “Hmm, yes, that’s what they say. But you know what I say, Finnigan?” Draco took a half-step toward Finnigan, looming over him. “Times. Are. Changing.”

It took a second for Finnigan to stop glaring and process what Draco had said. Draco could tell exactly when Finnigan had caught his meaning. Finnigan’s eyes widened and his face paled dramatically. Draco wanted to laugh.

Even Finnigan’s voice had lost it’s bravado. “You mean…. You-Know-Who really…”

Draco gave a derisive laugh. “You hardly need me to tell you, you Gryffindors have your Saint Potter for that. Why believe anything _I_ say.”

Finnigan went from white to red faster than Draco thought possible. Even Finnigan’s freckles disappeared under his blush. 

Draco slid into his most menacing glare. “You can believe this Finnigan. You better start respecting me now before it’s _far_ too late. You can _start_ by taking a detention and 20 points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew.”

Finnigan’s hand jerked toward his pocket, likely where he was keeping his wand. Draco was quick to slide his down out of his arm holster and into his hand, pointing it at Finnigan, who froze, his glare renewed. He stopped moving his hand and spit. “Get bent.”

Draco was no longer amused. “I suggest, Finnigan, that you take your filthy half-blood mouth back to your dorm now. Before I have to use force.”

Finnigan sneered. “You don’t have the guts. You’re all talk and no action, just like all you Slytherins.”

Draco smirked. “I thought we just established who my father was, you really think he hasn’t taught me anything?”

Draco and Finnigan glared at each other for what felt like ages, waiting for the other to make a move. Finally Finnigan practically growled before turning and stomping away toward the Gryffindor common room. 

Draco waited several minutes to be sure before he slid his wand back up his sleeve.

It was hardly a second later when Luna came around the corner. She stood at his shoulder and they both looked down the corridor after Finnigan. She waited several minutes before saying anything. 

“That was very kind of you.”

Draco scoffed. “No it wasn’t. I wish you’d stop saying things like that. I’m the farthest thing from ‘kind’ or ‘sweet.’” Even the taste of those words felt bitter in his mouth.

He felt a hand on his arm and looked over at Luna. He could still feel the steel in his eyes. Luna was smiling a soft, secretive smile. “You wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t.”

Draco turned away to glare at the floor. “I’m just trying to make up for something that was my fault in the first place.”

“Draco, if you were a bad person you wouldn’t feel you had to make up for it.” 

Draco looked back at Luna’s smiling face. He didn’t feel like arguing. He ran a shaky hand through his hair with a sigh, then jerkily held his arm out for her like he had last time. She took it without saying anything and they started heading toward Ravenclaw tower. 

They must have been walking for at least ten minutes in silence before Luna cut through it abruptly. “You know, I don’t think it was your fault in the first place.”

Draco shut his eyes for a second. He thought they were done discussing it. “How do you figure that?”

Luna was slow to answer. “Well…. It wasn’t Marietta Edgecombe that told Umbridge.” Draco froze on the spot. “That’s why you think you're to blame, right?”

Draco stared straight ahead in disbelief. His voice was devoid of feeling. “What do you mean, it wasn’t Edgecombe that told Umbridge?”

Luna had stopped when he did. “She was there tonight you see. She told us that with Umbridge knowing something was going on she didn’t feel safe continuing, given who her father was. Hermione took her coin back at the end of the meeting.”

Draco unfroze enough to turn his head to look at Luna. “That doesn’t mean she didn’t tell. She could just be cutting ties before she got found out.”

Luna shook her head side to side slowly, her eyes wide. “Mmm, that’s what Zacharias Smith said. But Hermione told us that she cursed the parchment she’d had us sign at the Three Broomsticks so that if one of us told Umbridge it would be obvious.”

“So there’s proof it wasn’t Edgecombe?” Draco raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t help feeling impressed with Granger, even as a rush of relief came over him. It wasn’t his fault.

Luna hummed in agreement, even as she tightened her hold on his arm and started moving again. “There is. Don’t worry about the list though, I took your advice and used my initials. Hermione liked the idea so much she had everyone use theirs and she said she triple checked that her curse was still functional.”

Draco would have liked to check that curse himself, but he knew in his heart that Granger was more than capable. “So no one was missing or had any sign of this curse?”

Luna shook her head again, her long hair waving about. “Everyone was there. Hermione examined everyone individually before we left too. Zacharias Smith didn’t like that too much.”

Draco snorted. “I thought you said he was the one to be suspicious of Edgecombe? It's a bit contradictory to only check her, but blindly trust everyone else.”

Luna frowned thoughtfully. “I believe one of his parents may be attached to a lidérc and he’s feeling the residual effects.”

Draco had little idea what Luna was talking about, but he was in a good mood and decided to play along. He clucked his tongue. “Why do you think it’s his parents and not him?”

Luna visibly brightened. Draco felt warmed by the sight. “Because he can’t perform extraordinary feats. But he does have lots of money and thinks rather a lot of his family. Maybe they could perform feats.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, not sure if he should feel offended. “I have a lot of money and think a lot of my family.”

Luna hummed thoughtfully, looking out of the corner of her eye at him. “It’s not the same. I don’t think you’re affected.”

Draco thought for a second and suddenly came to a realization. “Isn’t Smith related to the Smiths who claim to be descendants of Hufflepuff? Salazar help us, his family must be affected by _something_ if they’re producing offspring like him as a family of _Hufflepuffs_.”

Draco and Luna talked a bit more about some of Luna’s creatures until they were almost to the top of the spiral stairs. They both stopped at the same time, hearing sobbing coming from where the Ravenclaw entrance should be. 

They looked at each other, Draco raising his eyebrows in surprise. Luna pursed her lips and whispered. “It sounds like Cho Chang again. She was quite upset about Marietta Edgecombe's choice to leave. She almost cursed Zacharias Smith when he suggested that she should be obliviated.”

Draco frowned, careful to keep his voice down as well. “They didn’t actually wipe Edgecombe’s memory, did they?”

Draco hoped they didn’t. It might have been the smarter thing to do, but the idea of playing around with other people’s memories like that felt manipulative and invasive on a level Draco was uncomfortable with. It was one thing to Obliviate muggles for their own good, it was another thing entirely to modify a fellow witch’s memory. If they could do that to Edgecombe, who just wanted to leave the group, what would they be willing to do to Draco if they found out he knew? Nothing pleasant. 

Luna was quick to deny it though. “No, they didn’t obliviate her. She offered to let them, and many people were in support of it, but in the end Harry stopped it. Marietta said she’d feel safer without the memories, but Harry told her if that was the case she should keep the memories as a price for leaving. Her name is still on the cursed parchment anyway, so they would know if she told Umbridge.”

Draco relaxed a bit. It was a good move on Potter’s part. Draco was impressed. Edgecombe was much less likely to become a real enemy later if she retained her memories of being included in Potter’s club. Potter showing unwanted mercy on her gave her a good example of what Potter stood for. Kindness, but the ability to show good judgement about what sort of kindness was best, as well as an intolerance for weakness of character.

Draco wondered if Potter had thought it out, or if he’d been overcome by the same wrongness at the thought of wiping her memory that Draco had been and went with his gut feeling about it. Draco could guess it was the gut feeling.

Luna broke through Draco’s contemplation. “Cho Chang has been quite emotional this year, understandably. I don’t think it’s the first time she’s gotten frustrated at the knocker and started crying. I should really go help her in, I’ve been worried that she might turn into a squonk. If she does I’d quite like to see it. Although I suppose it’d be better manners to prevent her from succumbing to it.”

Draco didn’t ask, he just nodded once in approval. Luna smiled a bit and stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck in goodbye. Draco waited until he could hear Luna talking to Chang before he headed back toward the dungeons. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t until he was drifting off that the obvious came to him. It had to have been someone who told Umbridge. Someone not on the parchment. 

That put Blaise and Pansy at the top of the list. 

Draco didn’t sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning he didn’t want to leave his bed. He didn’t know how he’d handle seeing Pansy and Blaise. The more he thought about how it could have been them the more sense it made. If Umbridge was banning all clubs of three or more people in an effort to stop Potter, instead of going after him directly, then maybe she didn’t really know much concrete information.

If it was Blaise or Pansy and they had told Umbridge all they knew, they might end up taking a hit for becoming so involved and not telling someone sooner. Just saying they had heard a rumor that Potter was gathering people would be enough to earn them plenty of accolades from Umbridge. She hadn’t gotten to Potter since his last detention.

Blaise and Pansy even knew they had a built-in scapegoat in Edgecombe for when Umbridge made her counterattack. 

He had really thought he could trust them was the thing. 

The thought brought Draco up short for a second before he ran a rough, agitated hand through his tangled hair. 

He liked to pretend that the three of them were operating on Slytherin’s mutual destruction code, but the truth was that he _did_ trust them. 

He’d known Pansy since he was five. Every year he entrusted her with more and more information about himself that she could have used against him at any time. Just last year he’d given her the ultimate weapon against him by telling her of his feelings for Potter. But all she’d ever done was work with him and share parts of herself in return. He didn’t think she’d told a single other person about her father. 

Blaise…. Well. He shouldn’t trust Blaise really, he supposed. But Blaise was hard not to trust. When he’d been open to them about his affair right away, despite them hardly being friends yet. The way he sometimes gave off the impression that he just wanted to be included. The way he looked at him and Pansy like they were Salazar’s own gift to him when they paid him any attention. It was hard to fake that. Hell, Draco had traded his friendship with Nott for Blaise. 

So Draco did what he was finding he did best, he avoided the problem. He stayed in his bed as much as he could the whole weekend, burying himself in homework and Occlumency practice. He wrote a bland letter to his parents, he talked about strange creatures in the diary with Luna. When anyone came knocking he was quick to send them away in clipped tones that conveyed just how busy he was. 

When it was Monday again and time for classes, Draco spent as little time as he could get away with with Pansy and Blaise. He turned to Vincent and Greg, claiming he felt badly for neglecting their tutoring. He spent a lot of time with his Quidditch team practicing and mocking the other teams for taking so long to reform with the first game coming up. He’d gone and met Luna again after one of Potter’s meetings, careful not to mention his suspicions. 

That way he’d managed to stay away from them and his dilemma all week. 

When his curtains were ripped open on Saturday after breakfast, which he’d skipped, he knew he was caught. 

He could barely look at Pansy’s livid face, or Blaise’s carefully constructed neutral one. 

Pansy roughly pushed the homework he’d had scattered over his bed, a push that sent them falling over the other end with a thump that made Draco wince. Then she pushed Blaise a bit until he took the hint and crawled to the other side of Draco’s bed. Pansy pulled Draco’s curtains closed and cast hurried, but powerful feeling, silencing and locking charms. Then she planted herself right in front of Draco with her arms crossed.

Draco cleared his throat and crossed his arms in return, raising one eyebrow impatiently as if he didn’t know exactly what this was about. “Yes?”

Pansy scowled harder. She really did look like a crup when she scrunched her nose up like that, Draco found himself thinking wildly in an effort to keep his composure. 

Draco was so distracted by Pansy that he didn’t see Blaise coming when he punched him in the upper arm. “Hey! What exactly was that for?”

Blaise gave him a hard look. Draco looked at where he was rubbing his sore arm so he would have an excuse to look away.

Pansy was quick to regain his attention. “We know you’ve been avoiding us, and we have a good idea why. The question, Draco, is how in Salazar’s name you think we could have betrayed you!”

Pansy’s voice cracked toward the end and Draco’s eyes widened in surprise. He uncrossed his arms in concern when Pansy had to look away from him to compose herself. He’d been a second away from touching her knee in comfort when she turned back around, her glare as hard as ever and her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Draco flinched back. 

Her voice was just as hard as her glare. “I- We’ve, decided that the only way to fix this is by using extreme measures. Clearly there’s been a misunderstanding somewhere.”

She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out one of the last things Draco expected to see, a shining crystal bottle of clear liquid that was unmistakably veritaserum. Before Draco had even fully shaken off his disbelief Pansy had taken the dropper out of the top and was dripping the first of three drops onto her tongue. 

Draco could only watch as she shakily shoved it at Blaise. Draco met his eyes as he filled the dropper. “You don’t have to. Blaise, really.”

Draco watched the moment when Blaise’s expression went from concealed anxiety to determination. He didn’t even respond before he was following Pansy in dripping three drops on his own tongue.

He put the dropper back in and held the bottle out to Draco. Draco took it, but didn’t touch the top, looking over at Pansy. He carefully met her eyes too. They were still suspiciously wet. Her voice was even thick when she finally acknowledged him. “I know- I know how good you are at Occlumency, Draco. I don’t even know if this will work on you, but I trust you to let it work.” Her voice faded until it was only a quiet murmur. “For us.”

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Maybe this would be the worst idea he’d ever had, but damn it, he wanted to trust his friends again. He carefully, purposefully, lowered even his most casual Occlumency shields. When he raised the dropper his hands were steady.

By the time the last drop had dissolved on his tongue, he was already feeling the effects. He took a second to poke around at the feeling in his mind. It was relaxing, really, a feeling like he _wanted_ to tell all his secrets. He’s not sure he _would_ be able to block it with Occlumency, but he was glad he didn’t have to try either way.

When Draco tuned back into the world around him Pansy was giving him a desperate sort of look that he felt sure she’d be embarrassed by at any other time. “Draco. Ask us. Ask us the question, please.”

Draco grit his teeth for a moment and then spit it out. “Did you tell anyone about Potter’s group?”

Since he was looking at Pansy she answered first. “No. I never told a single other person about Potter’s group. I only talked about it with you and Blaise. I would never, _never_ , betray you like that Draco.”

Draco felt sheer emotion press against the backs of his eyes at her answer. He made himself turn away to look at Blaise. “Did you tell anyone about Potter’s group, Blaise?”

Blaise grimaced, but met Draco’s eyes head-on. “No, I didn’t tell anyone about Potter’s group. I hate Umbridge, and you two are the only people I really talk to.” Blaise clenched his jaw as if to stop there, but as the words kept spilling out a look of utter embarrassment came over him. “I’m so grateful to have found people like you two that feel like real friends, in a house of snakes, I never could betray you of my own free will. I might actually die before I gave you a reason to hate me. And does this stuff ever let you stop!? Salazar!”

Blaise buried his face in his hands as if not seeing them would make them forget what they’d just heard. 

Draco felt shocked and touched and- “I really want to hug you right now, but that’s too Hufflepuff for anyone’s good, so I’m going to make you take your turn getting your hair pet. Even if that also is way too touchy feely and you’re not nearly dramatic enough to cover for it the way I am.”

Blaise stifled a noise that may have been a groan of mortification, and might have been a sob. Only the thought that it might be that second one kept Draco from doing more than scowling at himself. And Pansy when she chimed in with a clear sniffle of her own. “I knew you two were giant saps. Here.”

And then Pansy was arranging them to her liking. Moving over and ordering Draco to lay down, then pushing Blaise until he’d both uncovered his face, and laid down with his head on Draco’s stomach so Draco could indeed run a hand through Blaise’s short stubble of hair while Blaise blushed hard enough that Draco could see red through his dark complexion and his lower legs hung off the side of the bed. Pansy laid her own head on Blaise’s stomach and her legs over Draco’s shins. Draco noticed that Blaise didn’t need Pansy to demand he play with her hair in turn, but had simply started doing it of his own accord.

It felt nice. This was them without masks or dignity or pureblood pride. This was getting to be close to his friends without worry or trickery or disguises. It made Draco wonder… “I wonder if this is what it’s like all the time for the other houses. If all Gryffindor friendships are like this.”

Pansy snorted. “Think about Gryffindor friendships a lot, Draco?”

Pansy phrased it like a question, and Draco felt the additional pressure to answer. It was just as horrifying as Blaise had made it look. Draco heard how solemn his voice was in his answer and that somehow made it worse. “All the time. What it would be like if I hadn’t fucked up my first meeting with Potter, or my second. If it was me by his side instead of Weasley. If we’d have been good friends. If it was me he’d been seeking in the lake, if we’d have gone to the Yule Ball. I could tutor him in Potions and he’d insist I improve at Care of Magical Creatures. We’d have seekers games between official matches and maybe I’d beat him once or twice and he’d throw an arm around my shoulders and grin, all windswept.”

Tears were building in Draco’s eyes and he was helpless to stop them. “I wouldn’t have abandoned him when he became champion like Weasley did. My father would be proud of me for once that I’d done as asked and befriended him, at first, and then absolutely furious when I gave up his ideals the closer I got to Potter. But I wouldn’t care about father for once. All I’d care about is finally being someone in Potter’s eyes.”

Blaise and Pansy were both staring at him with stricken expressions, but Draco couldn’t stop. “Some days I care more about the romantic things. Holding his hand while we walk through Hogsmeade and heads turn, stargazing on the Quidditch field at night, kissing on the astronomy tower, one or the other of us on our knees. But- but sometimes that matters so much less than him just _looking at me_ and smiling and seeing something _good._ ” 

Draco’s voice was genuinely cracking now, tears rolling down his face. “I had no idea that my biggest regret would be giving him reason to reject my friendship. But it’s too late for a do-over. I don’t live in a world where I can walk around without a mask like he can. He has his role and I have mine, but fuck, sometimes I see him with his friends and all I can feel is this _longing_ and it’s stupid! And when he came out of that maze clutching a _corpse_ I just wanted to be there for him and I couldn’t. I couldn’t! And I couldn’t be there for him when I found him in a corridor bleeding! Hiding from his friends! Not trusting Dumbledore to help him!”

Draco snarled. He hated himself for every word he was saying. Hated that all his jealous longing was being spoken out loud when he’d so carefully tucked it down and away from anyone else. “I torment him because I just want him to hurt like he’s hurt me! To get him to look at me with emotion and not like I’m nothing! I feel no remorse in hurting or belittling his friends because they have everything! It’s so easy for them! What’s it matter if they’re poor, or ugly, or muggleborn, or talentless, when they've impressed him the way I couldn’t! They’re all better than me, but I’ll be damned if I ever let them realize it for a minute!”

“SO OF COURSE I THINK ABOUT GRYFFINDOR FRIENDSHIPS! Friendships where I don’t have to bother with politics and reasoning and swaying allies or tormenting someone I love. Where I can be with Potter and it doesn’t matter because what could other things matter really? Greg and Vince only follow me because I tutor them and our fathers told them too as repayment. I barely know the others. We band together for self preservation. For our parents. Our blood. Until last year I was sure even Pansy was only friends with me because of Slytherin politics and the want of a good marriage match.”

Draco finally petered out, gulping huge lungfuls of air. It was several seconds before Pansy dared to pipe up, her voice still soft out of respect for his revelations. “Is that why you thought we’d betray you? You don’t think our friendship is real because we’re Slytherins?”

Draco’s voice was raw and hoarse. “I didn’t want to believe it was one of you. I wanted to trust you. I care about you. But that’s not how Slytherins work. Father told me that all friendship is based on mutually assured destruction. To never trust anyone with something unless their betrayal would hurt them too. I know… I know something about Pansy that made me doubt it was her because I don’t think she’s told anyone else. On top of that she wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize our deal around marriage. But Blaise. I feel like I don’t know a single personal thing about you, Blaise. Now that your affair in public knowledge I’ve got nothing. I still wanted to believe you hadn’t done it, but I had no basis. Slytherins make the best spies. Everyone knows that.”

Blaise tried to get up, probably wanting to run away, but Draco clung to his shoulder until he laid back down. Blaise’s voice was tense. “Would knowing one of my secrets really make you feel better?”

The question wasn’t aimed properly. Both Draco and Pansy answered with a tense and guilty “Yes.”

Blaise shrugged Draco’s hand off his shoulder, but didn’t shy away when Draco started tentatively running his hand through his hair again. His voice was serious and determined, if not a bit angry, when he demanded. “Ask me then. Ask me about my mother. It’s the only thing people really wonder about me. I’ve never told anyone the proper truth about it. You’d be the only ones. Ask.”

Draco would rather swallow his own tongue. Pansy was always the more brash of them anyways. It was her that ended up asking. “What’s the truth about your mother, Blaise?”

Blaise heaved a heavy sigh. “My father was a disgrace of a pureblood. He defied tradition and instead of going into politics he joined the Italian Aurors. Mother and he had been childhood sweethearts. Mother was more of a traditionalist, but she loved him and thought him brave to follow his heart. So they got married. Mother was disowned. It broke her heart, but she thought it was worth it. They had me and were happy until I was about five. He died during a raid.”

Blaise paused to take a deep breath. “I don’t really remember him well. I just remember he was always smiling. He had a best friend from school that had followed him into the corps. My godfather. After my father died he was as brokenhearted as my mother. He looked in on us. Said he wanted me to grow up with a father figure. I guess he was around so much, mother and he eventually developed feelings. Mother and him got married when I was eight. I remember him a lot better than my own father. I called him dad before they even got married.”

Draco and Pansy shared a look. Then mutually took one of Blaise’s hands each. They could tell this story wouldn’t end well. It was widely known that Mrs. Zabini had just married her sixth husband.

“A year before I entered Hogwarts he died. Mother thought it was in the line of duty originally, but news made it to her that he’d been poisoned doing paperwork. I think the grief did something to her. She tracked down the man who she thought had done it, and worked her way into his good graces. He proposed. They got married. Then she poisoned him. Revenge for her second husband. He was a major politician with a lot of influence and money, she was the last person anyone suspected. When she was courting him she had made up with her family. He was a respectable pureblood sort, you know. She was thrust back into high society. She caused waves with her beauty. I went off to Hogwarts about then. I guess with me gone most of the year she felt free to do as she pleased. She went along with any smarmy politician that was interested until they married. They were always dead about a year later, leaving us all their money.”

Pansy’s voice was a bit awed. “She really is a black widow then?”

Blaise laughed a dry laugh. “I suppose. I barely know her anymore. She’s not the same person she was when I was younger. She doesn’t see me anymore, not really. And she’s not happy. She lives only for the game now.” Blaise’s voice was hushed with his next admission. “I’m afraid I’ll end up like her. I know my reputation and how I look.”

Draco stared up at his curtains. “Do you really think you could kill like she does?”

Blaise swallowed. “I don’t know. Not right now. But who knows what I’ll do if I’m pushed enough? If I marry for love, who's to say they won’t leave? Or die? Everyone else has so far. I think that’s why I don’t like getting too emotionally invested.”

Draco squeezed Blaise’s hand. “What about us?”

Blaise closed his eyes. “I got sick of always being alone. I let myself get too close to _that boy_ over the summer. I got too used to someone being there. I told myself I wouldn’t get too invested, I was just curious. Merlin. I’m such a liar. I learned from the best.”

Pansy spoke for the first time in a while. Her voice was shaky. “Ask me about my father, Blaise. That’s what Draco knows.”

Draco could see Blaise squeeze Pansy’s hand and wished he could reach her other one. “What happened to your father, Pansy?”

Pansy curled up tighter into a ball, her knees up to Draco’s thighs and the hand Blaise wasn’t holding fisted in his shirt. “He was caught torturing and-and, a muggle girl.” Pansy sobbed. “Her neighbors heard the screams. They were magic and called the Aurors, it was the middle of the last war. He got caught in the act and, and they gave him the Dementor’s Kiss!”

They both listened as Pansy cried for a bit, unable to do anything to help. Draco’s heart clenched with every sob. 

She suddenly burst into speech again, making both boys flinch. “And mother! She lets his body sit and rot in a back room because she’d rather have an evil, awful person in her house than risk losing her _gold_! She cares more about money than me! She just wants to sell me off to the highest bidder without caring how horrible they are because she got saddled with someone awful! I hate having him in my house, knowing what he did! His body is wasting away, he’s only alive because he’s hooked up to magical machines. When I first heard what he’d done I wanted to rip them out. I saw the crime pictures… The woman and her kid didn’t make it.”

Draco wanted to be sick. Pansy hadn’t gone into that much detail when she’d told him before. Most of Draco’s knowledge had been conjecture. Now he almost wished he didn’t know. 

Pansy sniffed and gradually calmed down. “I don’t want to be beholden to anyone. I want to do what I want without being dependent on someone else for my happiness. I want to fall in love with someone I know and can trust to never do those things. I want to pick my own path. But I’m so scared I’ll be wrong about someone and end up like my mother anyway. I don’t want to support the Death Eaters after knowing what they can do, but I’m more afraid of not supporting them and the so-called light side finding out just what kind of monster my father was. I don’t want to be completely alone.”

Blaise laughed again, in that way that said clearly that nothing was funny. “What a class act we are. Coming from families of murderers. All of us are too independent by half and too lonely and scared by far. It’s no wonder we go so well together.”

Draco surprised himself when he spoke up. “I can’t imagine not trusting either of you after this. I hope that doesn’t hurt any of us in the end.”

Pansy snorted. “Oh, it’s going to. But we’ll have each other anyway. That’s the best we can hope for.”

Blaise made a noise of agreement. “We still don’t know who did betray Potter. It’s ironic, but we’re the only three who know who is clear of suspicion.”

Draco groaned but let the words come out. “No, we’re not. Luna Lovegood is clear too. I’ve been talking to her through a two-way journal all year. She’s my inside source. We’ve become good friends. Maybe not like you two are, but good ones. She doesn’t have a duplicitous bone in her body. And little to no friends outside Potter’s group that I can gather. She's safe.”

Pansy sat up a little to look at him and raise an eyebrow. “Loony Lovegood? Really Draco?”

Draco flushed. “Yes, really! She doesn’t mind when I’m not careful of people’s feelings, she calls me sweet, and she’s incredibly insightful. We talk about Potter and thestrals. Also I think we’re cousins. Her mother was a Malfoy, apparently.”

Blaise was the one to snort this time, Pansy rolling her eyes and lying back down. “Of course you like someone who puts up with you and lets you nerd out. It doesn’t have to be Lovegood who did it. There are too many people to really be able to tell who did it.”

Draco cleared his throat. “Luna said that Granger made them sign a cursed parchment that would make it so everyone would know who had told Umbridge. But all the members were accounted for and blemish free after the incident. So it can’t have been a member of Potter’s group.”

“That’s why you thought it was us?” Pansy’s voice was disbelieving.

Draco waved his hand in the air absently. “Well you do know the most out of all the non-members.”

Blaise scoffed. “You don’t know that. Granger's parchment must only curse you if you tell _Umbridge_ because Luna is fine and she told you. Every single one of those members could have told a friend and any of those friends could have told Umbridge. It even makes more sense that it was someone who knew less because Umbridge made a blanket ban on clubs instead of coming for Potter directly. She doesn’t even seem to know where the meetings take place or she would have been up there already.”

Draco gulped at the sheer scope. “So it could be anybody.”

They all laid quiet and clutching each other as the Veritaserum wore off.


	7. I Must Not Tell Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match and aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I'm sorry for the delay in updating, but things are a little crazy right now. I got sick with really bad strep and with that and my asthma they thought I had the plague for a week there on top of my new job.
> 
> I would like to give an extra huge thank you to my beta FerchKalvaNiibi who still took time to beta this chapter even with all that's going on.

Draco and his friends kept to themselves and spent the next day sitting quietly together working on homework or reading, trying to reconcile the new truths they’d learned about each other. Draco found it peaceful. Every once in a while a head would fall onto a shoulder or a foot would nudge up against a shin. It was nice to just be with his friends without worrying about anything for once. 

But as Monday crept in, Draco knew the peace couldn’t last. He had to set aside his calm, and even the mystery of who had tattled to Umbridge, to tackle the upcoming Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch game. There were Slytherins to rally and Gryffindors to curse, even Halloween passing with little notice in the chaos. 

In order to implement his plan to undermine Weasley, he’d taught Pansy the song he’d made and had her teach the other Slytherins. He’d sent Blaise off with Vince and Greg to distract the Gryffindors. Blaise had learned a spell from Montague that grew someone’s hair uncontrollably. 

Draco himself was working on transfiguring a couple hundred badges and had roped Milli into helping him. He would have liked to have done this last bit alone, but he’d learned that it was unfeasible to try and make that many badges himself after last year.

Milli was pleasant enough company in any case. Once she’d seen Draco’s template, she was a crack hand, making the work go fast and not needing any real help from Draco. She didn’t talk much. Draco thought she might be nervous to be working with just him, so he persuaded her to tell him some anecdotes about Pansy and some of the other Slytherin girls. 

By Friday night every phase of his plan was complete and ready for the next day with the Gryffindorks none the wiser. Draco could hardly sleep for his excitement for the next morning when he’d see all the Gryffindor faces. Weasley’s. Potter’s. 

Draco grinned in anticipation. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco had been preparing Weasley for humiliation by pretending to drop things in his presence every time Weasley was in viewing range. Draco could tell as soon as he and Potter came down to breakfast that all of Draco’s planning was already working, Weasley’s face was drawn and pale and he wasn’t stuffing his face like a pig. 

Potter was paying far more attention to Weasley than to Draco, but Draco could hardly bring himself to care for once, the anticipation thrumming through his veins. When he thought he’d make himself sick from excitement he grabbed Vince and Greg and practically ran down to the pitch to get ready. Normally he’d be a bit worried about their first real game, but with Draco’s plan in place it was practically a moot point. Draco hummed his song all the way down and through getting ready.

Potter was staring when the teams met on the field. Draco let himself enjoy it. He shot Potter a triumphant smirk and tapped his badge when Potter met his eyes. Can’t have Potter thinking that someone else was responsible for his handiwork. 

Potter barely had time to glare before they were all shooting into the air. 

It was the start of the best game Draco had ever played. Weasley fumbled everything. Jordan couldn’t cover up the slow crescendo of Pansy and the Slytherins from the stands. Potter was so distracted Draco let himself do a little mid-air conducting. 

Draco felt on top of the world with the wind rushing through his hair, Potter’s eyes on him, and the admiration of all his housemates.

Draco was momentarily distracted by Luna’s ludicrous headdress roaring from the stands when he saw Potter shooting into one of his signature dives near where the Slytherins sat. Draco was quick to follow, a competitive fire burning in his stomach.

The Snitch took a turn toward him and Draco could practically _taste_ victory on his tongue. He could _feel_ the Snitch in his grasp already as Potter turned in desperation, their brooms neck and neck as they extended their arms. 

Draco _reached_.

And only hit warm skin with his fingertips. 

He couldn’t believe it. Potter had- **_BAM!_ **

Draco’s eyes practically fell out of his head in shock and horror as a Bludger slammed into Potter’s back so hard he was almost folded in half backwards before he fell forward off his broom and to the ground. 

He snapped his head in the direction the Bludger had come from, and saw a smug looking Vince waving his Beater’s club around. 

Draco didn’t think. He landed immediately, intent on checking on Potter. If Potter had been seriously injured on his behalf…

But by the time he’d landed, Johnson was already checking on him and he was already brushing it off. 

Draco was suddenly overcome with a wave of uselessness and fury. He’d put his all into this. Into this one game. And not only had he lost, but one of his fellow Slytherins had almost fucking _killed_ Potter. And what could Draco do about that? Nothing. Congratulate Vince. Stew in fury. 

Johnson had a hand on Potter’s shoulder. He could just hear her words. “He whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you’d got the Snitch -- but we won, Harry, we won!”

Draco couldn’t contain himself. He snorted. _They_ won. More like _Potter_ won. The rest of them were useless. Draco had them beat and now Potter wouldn’t even _look_ at him. He couldn’t let that stand. He sneered, letting his fury come to the front to block out how shaken he still was from Potter’s fall. 

“Saved Weasley’s neck, haven’t you?” Draco made sure he was looking straight at Potter. Goading him to look back. Daring him to retort. _Look at me_ , his heart practically screamed. “I’ve never seen a worse Keeper… but then he was _born in a bin_ … Did you like my lyrics Potter?”

But Potter turned away when the rest of the Gryffindor team came barreling down the pitch. As a couple of the Chasers hugged him, Draco felt the last of his control fade to dust. He screamed his words like it would penetrate Potter’s brain if he said it louder. _Just turn around! Say something! Look at me! Please!_ It beat a rapid tattoo against his chest.

“We wanted to write another couple of verses! But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly -- we wanted to sing about his mother, see --” Draco was vaguely aware of someone insulting him to the other Gryffindors, but he barely paused. It wasn’t Potter, what should he care? He could hardly even hear it over the pounding in his ears. “ -- we couldn’t fit in _useless loser_ either -- for his father, you know --“

Draco was aware now that Johnson was holding one of the twins back as they caught on to what Draco was saying through the haze of their victory. But Potter still wasn’t reacting. Still wasn’t paying much attention, now focused on his _precious weasel twins._ Draco sneered at the thought. 

“ -- but you like the Weasleys, don’t you, Potter? Spend the holidays there and everything, don’t you? Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys’ hovel smells okay --”

Finally a reaction. Potter grabbed the twin the Chasers hadn’t reached as he lunged for Draco. Draco couldn’t help breaking out in loud, jarring laughter at the sight. He threw up his arms dramatically as he backed away, half sure the twins would throw off their handlers and not caring what they’d do to him as long as his last ditch effort got Potter too. 

Draco gave his all, not too proud to throw a low blow if it got him what he wanted. “Or perhaps,” Draco leered and savored the moment before his next words landed, “you can remember what _your_ mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it --”

Draco suddenly knew that he hadn’t backed far enough away as Potter and one of the Weasleys charged him. Draco couldn’t find it in himself to care, grinning even as the first punch landed. 

Draco thought he might have landed one or two of his own, before being completely overcome, pain blossoming from every inch of him as Potter and the Weasley twin attacked him in a blind rage. Potter ended up near his face. Draco was able to get a close up look at his eyes before his head was slammed backwards and his own vision grew hazy. 

He saw Potter blown away from him, and the weight left his body, before he passed out.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


When his eyes finally fluttered open with a groan, it was to be met with the familiar sight of the hospital wing ceiling.

He gave another long groan just because he could. His head was throbbing and he could feel several other tender areas that were probably beginning to bruise. He had very delicate skin. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He resolutely did not want to think about what he’d just done.

Before he could ruminate any more on what an idiot he was, Madam Pomfrey’s voice pierced his aching skull as she bustled over from her office with two potion bottles. “Mr. Malfoy! It’s good to see you awake. I’m afraid you’ve suffered a minor concussion.” She set the bottles down on the bedside table and gingerly helped him to sit up. “Take these. One’s a painkiller and the other will help with bruises and swelling.”

Pomfrey glared down at him with pursed lips until he’d taken both potions. They burned going down, but after a minute Draco could feel the effects and sighed in relief. Pomfrey nodded in satisfaction. “You’ve got friends waiting to see you. You can have fifteen minutes, if you’re up to it?” Draco grimaced at the thought of what any of his friends would say to him at a time like this, but nodded his approval. 

Pomfrey opened the door with a spell, before bustling back to her office, practically radiating disapproval. 

Pansy ran through the door immediately, followed closely by Blaise and Greg. Pansy threw her arms around his neck and squeezed so hard Draco winced. Blaise laid a hand on his lower leg, while Greg just loomed over the three of them with a worried look on his face. 

Draco scoffed. “Really now, you’d think I’d died.”

Pansy sniffled, but removed herself. “We thought Weasley and Potter _had_ killed you for a minute. What did you _do?”_

Draco clenched his jaw and barely kept from flinching when it aggravated the bruise on his jaw. The last thing he wanted to do was rehash his recent mistakes. “It doesn’t matter. I merely told them some hard truths and they attacked me. What happened after I passed out?”

Pansy pursed her lips and sent him a glare that the others couldn’t see. Blaise was raising an eyebrow at him that told him quite clearly that they’d be discussing it later. Greg didn’t notice anything was going on, thankfully. 

After a second Pansy sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. “Hooch blew Potter and Weasley off you and sent them off to McGonagall. Vince was too busy busting a lung laughing that he was no help. Hooch and Snape got you up to the hospital wing. You look better already, you had blood all over your face and a broken nose. It was awful Draco! Snape took Vince off to his office after he was sure you were okay. We haven’t seen him since.”

Draco scowled down at his sheet. “How long have I been here?”

Pansy bit her lip. “Only about an hour. No one’s heard what Potter and Weasley’s punishments are yet.”

Pansy was careful to look Draco right in the eye when she said that so Draco could not mistake her meaning. No one knew if they were to be ‘punished’ by Umbridge yet. Draco didn’t know what he’d do if it came to that because he got angry over Quidditch. 

Draco looked down his nose at them and put on his most haughty tone of voice. “Well. Thank you for checking on me, but you’d be more useful gathering some actually _useful_ information for me.”

Blaise scoffed. “If you want us to leave because you don’t feel good, you could just say. You don’t need to be a ponce about it.”

Draco sighed and rubbed at his temple. “I’m terribly sore and would like nothing more than to not think about this incident. If you could find out what happened to Potter and pals before I get out of here, that would be helpful.”

Blaise laughed. “Was that so hard? Merlin, you’re dramatic.”

Draco waved them off. “Just bloody leave will you?”

Pansy rolled her eyes at him, but kissed his cheek before she left. Blaise was still laughing quietly when he squeezed Draco’s shoulder. Greg merely nodded at him, still looking worried as he followed them out.

Pomfrey must have heard them leave, as she came out of her office to check on him as soon as they were gone. She had pajamas in her hand and Draco would be annoyed at what that meant, but he really didn't want to go back to the Slytherin dorms.

Sure enough, as soon as Pomfrey was next to his bed, “I’m keeping you overnight. I’m worried about that concussion, and I want to make sure I got all the major injuries. You had a broken nose and two cracked ribs, but only bruises otherwise. You were unconscious when you came in so you weren’t able to tell me where it hurt. I don’t need you rolling over in your sleep and finding you had another broken rib I missed.”

She shot him a sideways look. Draco abruptly recalled that the last time he’d been in the hospital wing was when that hippogriff attacked him. It must have said something bad about her healing technique that he’d claimed she couldn’t heal him. A wave of shame came over him and he merely nodded his agreement. 

Pomfrey handed him the pajamas and closed the privacy screens. “Let me know if you need help, or if something hurts when you move around.”

He worked as fast as he could, his body stiff, but with no sharp pain. When he finished he parted the privacy screens and met Pomfrey’s inquiring face. “Well? Any pain?”

Draco shook his head. “No, just stiff.”

Pomfrey nodded with a look of satisfaction. “Good. As expected. Well, I’ll come check on you in a couple hours, you should lay down and rest. No reading until tomorrow.”

Draco nodded, but as she’d turned to walk back to her office he couldn’t help calling out. “Wait!”

She stopped and turned immediately.

Draco grimaced. He hadn’t actually planned what he’d wanted to say. But he was here now and had to say something. “Er, I, I just wanted to uh. Apologize. To you. For third year. You did heal me quite well. I wasn’t thinking how my saying you hadn’t would affect you. I- I didn’t really think the whole thing through.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled. Actually smiled. Draco wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her smile. “Thank you Mr. Malfoy, but think nothing of it. You aren’t the first student to fake an injury and you won’t be the last.” She tried to hide her smile behind a fake stern facade. “If you could send me fewer students to treat that would be enough of an apology.”

Draco tried to look abashed, but he was secretly pleased his apology had gone over well. He wasn’t used to giving them. When he was young, he used to reflexively apologize, constantly anxious he wasn’t living up to standard. When it became obvious that reprimands wouldn’t stop him, his father had started slapping his hand with the end of his cane everytime he did. After a year of that he was well clear of it. He’d rarely apologize since the age of eight.

Madam Pomfrey smiled once more before she left, and Draco climbed quietly back into bed. 

Lying there, his pleasure at his successful apology quickly faded. It wasn’t even dinner time yet, and he was far from tired enough to sleep. All he could see behind his eyelids was Potter’s eyes when he’d finally rushed at him. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself get like that after one little scare. What was he going to do when the war really kicked off? 

What would he do if Potter got detention with Umbridge?

Draco tried to block off the worry with his Occlumency walls, but he couldn’t focus hard enough; he wondered if it was because of the concussion. 

When tears of frustration and stress landed on his pillow he blamed his concussion for that too.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Blaise came to pick him up the following morning just as he’d finished changing back into his school robes. As soon as they were out in the hallway Blaise raised an eyebrow at him. “Pomfrey not able to get rid of that one?”

Draco let his hand drift up to the bruise decorating the underside of the left side of his jaw. “Bruises take time to heal properly.”

Blaise gave him a Look. Draco tipped his face up haughtily. “And I may have glamoured it last night so Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t see it. It’s just the one bruise.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. Potter made that one?” Draco pursed his lips and didn’t answer. “I knew it. You are unbelievable. If you were any more whipped you’d be another Colin Creevey.”

Draco turned and glared at Blaise. “Where’s Pansy? She wouldn’t slander me so.” Draco paused, noticing for the first time the direction they’d been walking. “And for that matter, why are we going the long way to the Great Hall?”

Blaise grimaced. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice for a few more minutes.”

Draco stopped walking and stood in Blaise’s path. “What. Is. Going. On.”

Blaise sighed and ran a hand down his face. Draco had to stop himself from gaping at the show of stress. “Pansy didn’t want to come pick you up because she didn’t want to be the one to break the news.”

Draco grabbed Blaise’s elbow and turned to that they were facing the same way and started walking down the hall again. “Talk. What’s the news?”

Blaise faced forward resolutely. “Everyone knows Potter’s punishment now. Him and the Weasley twins were given a lifetime ban on Quidditch. Umbridge has declared that she’s in charge of all school punishments now. The Slytherins are celebrating, but the rest of the school blames you.”

Draco’s stomach fell through his shoes, and he would have stopped walking if Blaise wasn’t pulling him along. 

Potter not allowed to play Quidditch?

Umbridge in charge of punishments?

The two thoughts drifted and collided in his mind in a kind of numb horror. Both thoughts wanted to spiral out into the worst possible outcomes, Draco only just able to block the incoming panic.

They were silent until they were right in front of the doors to the Great Hall. Draco let go of Blaise’s arm. “I’m not going to let this go. I’ve got to do something this time.”

Draco didn’t give Blaise time to respond, marching forward into the Great Hall with his chin high. He didn’t look over at the Gryffindor table as he walked past it. He grinned when the Slytherins started clapping as he sat down. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All that Sunday Draco was surrounded. All the Slytherins wanted to bask in his ‘success’. Crawling all over themselves to get close to him. Whisper what other things they could do to Potter and the Gryffindor Quidditch team. 

Pansy had practically sat on him to scare some of the other Slytherin girls away from him. The two times Draco saw Potter during the day he’d glared and turned away. 

Draco tried to play it up as much as he could. Delighting his audience with a rendition of ‘Weasley Is Our King’ and flashing his badge, or pretending to be hit off an invisible broom. Meanwhile his stomach roiled with guilt and anger and worry. Occasionally the thought that he would never play against Potter again, or that Potter would never play _anyone_ again, would hit him out of nowhere and he’d have to fight the urge to vomit. 

The longer it went on, the more the praise started to sound like a rushing wall of noise that Draco could hardly even parse. Everytime the panic filled him, he’d freeze where he sat, staring off in the distance until Pansy or Blaise did something to knock him back into reality. 

Draco tried to come up with a plan to help Potter, make up for this heinous mistake, but nothing he could think of sounded even close to feasible. He felt like he was slowly going crazy, invisible to the crowd around him. 

Vincent sat next to him at dinner, with Pansy on Draco’s other side, keeping a tight grip on his robes. Draco only noted this when Vincent slapped him on the back and laughed in his ear, far closer than Draco liked, but it had the effect of bringing him back in the conversation just in time for his world to turn on its head.

“-- there’s no way we can lose! With that, and Umbridge knowing about Potter’s club, thanks to me --”

Draco whipped his head around to stare at Vincent, his heart practically a stone in his chest. “What. What did you just say?”

His voice was sharp and loud. Everyone around them suddenly stopped talking when they registered his tone. Pansy tightened her grip on his forearm. 

Despite the stricken looks of the other Slytherins, Crabbe was still smiling when he turned to address Draco’s question. “Oh yeah, meant to tell you yesterday, but with you in the hospital wing and all.” Crabbe shrugged his wide shoulders, carelessly, like he hadn’t stabbed Draco in the back. “We -- Greg and me -- heard what you said to Edgecombe, you know? Figured you just hadn’t told Umbridge ‘cause it was unconfirmed rumours. You wouldn’t want to be wrong if you’re telling the Ministry, yeah? So I told Umbridge while you were tutoring Greg. Then we’d be blamed if it was wrong, but we’d give all the Slytherins credit if it was right. And it was! Least enough for Umbridge. We thought we’d wait till after our game in case we lost. Cheer you up. You’re always cranky when you lose to Potter.” 

It felt as if an icy shroud fell over Draco. Before he could think, he was acting. His wand in his hand and up under Crabbe’s chin, the tip of his wand pressing hard. Crabbe abruptly stopped grinning. 

Draco hissed into Crabbe’s face. “Don’t you think, Crabbe, that if I had wanted Umbridge to know, I would have told her myself?”

Crabbe swallowed heavily, pushing Draco’s wand harder into his throat. He started to nod, but upon being unable to move his head, he stuttered out. “Y-yes?”

“Do you have _any_ idea what you’ve ruined? No. You don’t. Because you’re so dead from the neck up, that your _father_ specifically asked me to watch out for you. Because you’re such a gormless moron that you don’t even realize how little you know.”

Goyle stuck his head around Crabbe’s shoulder, his face pale and drawn. Draco aimed his icy glare towards him as well. “I am going to _fix_ this _mess_ you’ve placed me in.” Draco took a deep breath as that fact sunk in. He knew what he had to do now. It was a daunting prospect. He released his breath and returned to glaring. “You will _never know_ what this misstep of yours has cost me. But you can _count_ on the fact that you _will_ pay for it. Maybe not now, but you will.”

With that Draco slid his wand away and stood in one smooth gesture. He took a glance around the table at the gawking faces. Blaise and Pansy both looked as if they’d just watched him being murdered. Draco did his best to avoid their eyes, worried he wouldn’t have the courage to go through with his plan if he let his friends comfort him. 

He gave a sharp, tight lipped nod, and left the Great Hall at a brisk pace. 

Ever since he’d left Potter in that hallway he’d wanted to enact this plan. But now he could feel the blood rushing out of his face with every step he took. His hands were already shaking. He wasn’t a bloody Gryffindor. If he hadn’t felt such a deep, spiraling pit of guilt and fear clawing its way up his stomach like a rabid beast he never could have kept walking.

In trying to be a better person, he’d single-handedly ruined so many things. He’d lost Potter his ability to fly, he’d made his club illegal, he’d made Luna a target. He had been so careless with how he’d dealt with things that he’d allowed his _idiot lackeys_ to go behind his back and pave the way toward Umbridge being in charge of all punishments. 

A vivid image passed behind his eyes of Luna, bent over a parchment stained in blood, tears rushing from her eyes. 

He’d been _trusted_ with something _important_ and he’d not protected it. He deserved what this plan was going to take out of him. 

Pound of flesh indeed.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


He paused outside the office door. He took several, long, slow breaths. Then he locked it everything away. Every feeling, every vulnerable thought. The perfect Occlumency wall. 

Draco’s mouth curved up into his signature smirk. 

He didn’t knock. He strode the last few steps with purpose and banged the door open to herald his presence. 

Umbridge’s head jerked up at the noise, her wide eyes making her look more like a startled toad than ever. Her surprise lasted until he’d had enough time to throw himself haughtily into the chair across from her desk, his legs crossed in the picture of casual elegance. 

Umbridge opened her mouth and shrilled at him. “What do you think you’re doing? Barging in like this!”

She already sounded indignant. Draco allowed his mouth an extra twitch upwards. “I’ve come to thank you, Professor.”

She carefully placed her quill down and raised a single eyebrow. “Oh, really? Whatever for?”

Draco sat up straighter. “I heard that you had Potter and the Weasley twins banned from Quidditch. This gives Slytherin much better odds for the Quidditch Cup.” Draco paused to shoot Umbridge a delicately disgusted look. “Not to mention the way they attacked me. How dare they touch me with their inferior hands! Dueling like muggles.”

Umbridge gave a tight-lipped smile. “Well, as the Hogwarts High Inquisitor I must not take sides in Quidditch. But I do try to give the most _fair_ punishments.”

Something dark curled against Draco’s Occlumency walls. He was quick to suppress it. 

Draco met Umbridge’s eyes. “Yes. You mustn’t take sides in Quidditch. But I’m happy to see the sides you’ve taken in other matters.”

The air instantly became heavier with intent in the pause. 

Umbridge didn’t look away from Draco’s eyes. Her voice was carefully pleasant when she spoke. “I’m not sure I understand your meaning.”

“I understand that my father is an associate of yours. He spoke highly of you after your appointment.”

Umbridge smiled again. Obviously not sensing where this was leading, like a toad in a slowly boiling cauldron of water. “Yes, I’ve run into Lucius several times over the course of my career as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. He and the Minister have had many meetings over the years. I’m pleased to hear he appreciates my work.”

Draco smiled back. “Yes. He especially appreciates everything you’ve done in regards to Potter. It’s good to see a teacher that will shut him up and put him in his place.”

The words burned on Draco’s tongue, but he continued to smile. Umbridge picked her quill back up and started absently marking the parchment she had been working on when he’d burst in, now giving him only half her attention. “Yes, well. Liars must be punished.”

Draco unfolded his legs and leaned his elbows on the edge of Umbridge’s desk. “That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? We both know he’s not lying. I doubt it’s merely old Slytherin house pride that has you helping the children of the Dark Lord’s followers.”

Umbridge had paused her writing as he’d spoken and now looked up slowly to meet his eyes once more. “What is it, exactly, that you are implying, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco sat back in his chair again, crossing his arms, his eyes steely. “We both know I’m not implying anything. You’d have to be incredibly dim to actually believe that the Dark Lord was dead at this point. You’ve been incredibly helpful in his plans to pretend though. My father is _very_ influential in _certain_ circles. You must know _that_ as well.”

Umbridge blinked several times and opened her mouth to speak, or croak, but Draco was quick to cut her off. “I wasn’t entirely sure you weren’t just stupid before, but it’s clear with how you punished Potter and the Weasleys that you know what you’re doing. I decided to come by to give you some _suggestions_. I promise you that the _right_ people will be sure to hear about it if you were to follow them.”

There was a long pause as Umbridge set her quill back down again. Her words were slow and sure when she addressed him. “Are you bribing a Ministry official Mr. Malfoy? Using Potter’s ridiculous lies at that.” She paused to let her words sink in. Draco allowed his cold smile to melt off his face. “Tut, tut, Mr. Malfoy. Imagine if your father could hear you now. He’d be, so, disappointed.” Draco practically held his breath as Umbridge smiled. “I had high hopes for you Mr. Malfoy. But I’m afraid I’ll have to give you a week's detention. Any more _incidents_ and you’ll find yourself with more detention and a letter to your father.”

Draco stood up fast enough to knock his chair over. “Don’t!”

His distress only seemed to make her more pleased and sure in her decision. “Be a good boy then and don’t give me a reason to. That’s easy enough, yes? If you can behave yourself, I needn’t even tell anyone you are to do these detentions. It would be quite the embarrassment to the Malfoy name if your little friends were to know you’d misbehaved.”

Draco grit his teeth and bowed his head, submitting to the truth of her words. 

“Now, I’m quite busy. Go along.” She gave him a shooing gesture that would have made his father’s blood boil, but only filled him with relief that he could leave. 

He’d gotten her door half open and a foot out when she spoke up after him. “I expect to see you after dinner tomorrow.”

Draco didn’t reply. He let the door slam after him.

He only got halfway down the corridor before a hard, pleased, smile crossed his face. 

He’d succeeded. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	8. The Flaw in the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do Draco's relationships hold out under detention with Umbridge?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know it's been a very long while, but I'm back now. I had a lot of good reasons to have taken a break, but the important part is that I'm back. In fact I have three chapters all set that should keep me from having any big breaks again, barring unseen circumstances of course. I plan to post them every other Friday. It's only just barely Friday here, but I wanted to make sure I got this out.
> 
> I would of course like to thank my beta- FerchKalvaNiibi
> 
> I would also like to say that I am a genderfluid nb person whose prefered pronouns are they/them and that I Do Not support JKR. I'm not going to stop writing and creating or being a part of a fandom that I love just because the person who started the ball rolling turned out bad. In fact I'm more motivated than ever to give my interpretation to things. I plan on retelling all three of the last books should that motivation continue to the end of this one. I have things planned out.

Draco kept himself behind his strongest Occlumency shields for the rest of Sunday and all of Monday. His reactions were mechanical: a smirk here, an insult there. He continued to avoid being alone with Blaise and Pansy. He wasn’t ready to talk about the plan he’d set in motion. He wasn’t ready to think about the plan. His dread threatened to crawl up his throat and out his mouth every second. 

It was clear Uncle Severus could see something was wrong during Potions, but even he couldn’t break through Draco’s mental block to see for himself. Although he’d hardly gotten the chance to delve properly, Draco liked to think it was all him. He doubted he’d ever manage such good shields again.

The walk to Umbridge’s office on Monday night felt even longer than the one the day before. He could hardly believe he’d gotten himself in this position on purpose. 

He rapped three times on the door and got a prompt “come in” that he was careful to wait for this time. 

He almost sighed in relief when he saw that the only things prepared for him were a sheet of parchment and a black feathered quill. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if she’d given him a different detention. 

He must have stood there staring at it for longer than he thought. Umbridge felt the need to usher him in with a smile and a “Don’t gawk, it’s very unbecoming. Come in and sit down.”

She sounded almost exactly like any random pureblood grandmother would, but her smile was that of a toad about to swallow a fly.

Draco pulled out the chair and sat, picking up the quill and feeling along its eerie feather. He looked up to find her still watching him. His voice was more quiet than he’d meant it to be when he addressed her. “Is this-?”

He trailed off and her smile widened. “Yes, of course. You’re in quite a lot of trouble, Mr. Malfoy. I’m not sure how else to get the message to sink in.”

Draco looked down at the quill where he turned it over in his hand in an effort to avoid her eyes. “Did you make Potter do the same thing?”

Draco wasn’t looking, but he could hear the added simpering she slipped into her answer. “Why, yes. I wouldn’t consider myself unfair. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Draco stared at the sharp tip for a second longer than polite. Then he gathered himself and sat up straighter to answer. “Of course. Anything Potter can do, I can do twice as well.”

Umbridge's mouth tightened. “Hem hem. We shall see. I want you to write ‘I am not important’ until I tell you to stop.”

Draco only just caught himself from reacting. For some reason it hadn’t occurred to him that he would be writing anything different from Potter. He’d…. What? Thought that he and Potter were just getting nice matching tattoos? She could have given him the same words. He’d also said the Dark Lord was back. But this made sense too. She was more insulted that he’d thought himself her equal or better, to reward and condemn as he saw fit.

His hand clenched around the quill. He closed his eyes to calm down. 

It wasn’t so different from his calligraphy lessons as a child. Sitting and writing endlessly until he’d gotten it right. Until the sun went down and Dobby came to light a candle. 

It was only lines. 

It was only lines.

His hand still shook as he lowered it to the parchment. 

_ I Am Not Important _

His blood glistened on the page. The strange stinging wanted to make his eyes water. He clenched and unclenched his left hand as the words appeared and faded. Something about seeing those words in his handwriting on parchment sent a shot like lightning to his heart. 

He quickly scratched the sentence down three more times in quick succession as if to dash the feeling. 

Even as the back of his hand started burning he just wrote faster. He was important. He would make himself important. He would do what even those Weasley twins had failed to do. What Dumbledore himself couldn’t do. 

He’d get rid of Umbridge if it killed him.

The reminder of his purpose drove him on. When he started to lose the drive to continue he’d touch the bruise he’d left on his jaw. Draco wished he could pretend it was like Potter being there to comfort him, but in reality it just reminded him of how much he deserved this. 

Potter wanted him to hurt? Well then he’d hurt. He’d hurt and hurt until it made up for his mistake. Malfoys didn’t make mistakes.

Umbridge didn’t tell him to stop until midnight. She had a strange look in her eyes when she looked at him that he didn’t like one bit. However he was too wrung out to care much as he left.

Draco examined his hand as he walked down the corridor. It was an alarming shade of red, but no scar yet. Draco pinched his lips together and hoped it would cut in by the next night. He needed it to be permanent by the end of the week or he’d need to get himself in trouble again before he could move forward. 

He squeezed it as hard as he could with his other hand in an effort to distract from the burning it now constantly gave off. He couldn’t risk treating it before it scarred. His nails left perfect little crescents.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


When he pulled his bed curtain back to find Blaise and Pansy both waiting for him he was hardly surprised. If he’d been thinking straight he would have expected it. 

As it was he met their glares with a huff as he sat on the edge of his bed. “You’re going to have bags again in the morning, Pansy, dear.”

Pansy flicked his shoulder. “And now I know how to deal with them, don’t I, Draco, love.”

Blaise gave an unbecoming snort. “Is now the time? Where have you been Draco?”

Draco tried to avoid their eyes, but after only a second of this Pansy grabbed both of his shoulders and pulled him backwards down on the bed. Draco gave a startled yelp as he pitched back and landed with his head in Pansy’s lap looking up at her and Blaise. 

Blaise made a mad lunge across Draco’s body to grab his left hand tight in both of his. Draco only rolled his eyes. He hoped that the fact there was no scar would throw them off his trail, but he wasn’t holding his breath. 

Blaise held Draco’s hand close to his face and glared at the back, running his thumb over the red spot. Draco couldn’t hold back a comment. “Do you need glasses Blaise? You’re awfully squinty over there.”

Draco heard Blaise mutter something about, “Reading glasses, thought you liked them squinty anyway.” and “Idiot, bastard.” before he threw Draco’s hand away from himself in disgust. He turned to Pansy. “He’s definitely been to Umbridge. That or he’s been clawing at his own hand for hours.”

Pansy let out an explosive sigh as they both turned back to look at him. Draco cut them off before they could say anything else. “I’m going to get rid of Umbridge. Potter won’t, and the way I see it, we’re part of the maybe a handful that could manage it.”

Pansy frowned. “There must be a way that doesn’t involve this.”

Draco clenched his hands into fists just thinking about what Pansy was alluding to. He scowled. “I’ve been trying to think of another way since I found out what she was doing, but I can’t think of any that I’m sure will work.”

Blaise sneered and banged his own fist on Draco’s bed. “All of this for Potter! Why does it always have to be Potter with you? I know you have feelings for him, but to go this far? Are you even 100% sure this will work?”

Draco turned away, unable to meet Blaise’s anger. His voice was quiet. “No. I’m not 100% sure it’ll work.” Blaise made a noise that was almost a snarl. “But it’s not just for Potter. I can’t let her get you two, or Luna. And it’s not just the torture, she’s ruining Hogwarts. Our home.”

Draco chanced a look up at them in the loaded silence that followed. Pansy gave him a sad smile. Blaise was glaring at his blanket. His voice sounded thick when he spoke. “Why does it have to be you, though? You said a handful of others could do it. Just get them to.”

Draco flinched before snapping back. “Because I’m the only one that deserves it! Half the reason things have gotten this bad is that I couldn’t tell Crabbe and Goyle were going behind my back. Crabbe and Goyle! People have trusted me and I failed them. I won’t let this bitch push around me or the people I care about anymore! I need to do something to make up for how badly I failed, and that thing is this!”

Blaise surged up and grabbed Draco’s collar in both hands and dragged Draco up until they were face-to-face. “What about the people who care about you! Making us sit back and watch you do this!”

Draco stared, startled, into Blaise’s dark eyes. 

Blaise scoffed. His voice was calm, but laden with emotions Draco couldn’t parse. “You said you wondered what it’d be like if you were a Gryffindor. Well, here you have it. You're no better than them now. Leaving people behind to fight a cause.” Blaise let go of Draco’s collar slowly and stood up. “What’s the point?”

Before Draco or Pansy could stop him, Blaise parted Draco’s bed curtains and crossed the dark dormitory to his own bed. 

Draco looked at Pansy with bewilderment. She sighed again, pushing a piece of Draco’s hair out of his eyes. “You know, people think of Hufflepuff as the loyal house. But I’ve never seen anything or anyone more loyal than a Slytherin who has people they love. At the same time, Gryffindors are known for self-sacrifice, but no one is more willing to throw themselves into the fire than a Slytherin that loves others but not themselves.”

Draco still felt as if he'd been hit in the head and could only stare at Pansy in confusion. Pansy leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Please, don’t become that Slytherin. I’m too selfish to want to watch that.”

And before Draco could muster a response she had left too, the soft click of the dormitory door the only thing indicating her departure.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


His friends took to watching him from a certain distance starting that next morning. They no longer tried to get him to talk or change his mind, but neither did they leave him to the wolves. He could only be grateful.

Luna wrote to him that there would be another meeting that night. Pansy caught him staring at the message for longer than normal and snatched the notebook from under his nose. Her lips pursed, but she gave him a tense nod. When Draco opened his mouth to thank her, she whipped her head away.

He was glad that there would still be someone to watch the door while he was occupied. He was quick to tell Luna the change of plan.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


This time when he walked to Umbridge’s office he wasn’t afraid. He was filled with something like anticipation. The feeling itself made him uneasy. This wasn’t a Quidditch game. But his stomach made the same swoops regardless of how he tried to quell it. 

Umbridge didn’t say anything this time, merely waving him toward the parchment. Draco got the hint.

His hand still shook when he picked up the Black Quill, but he ignored it the best he could. Like most things, he’d found that when ignored hard enough it became a useless detail. What did it matter if his hand was shaking if he carried on anyway?

He flinched at the first cut, but soon steeled himself again to his task. After only about half an hour it was bleeding down his wrist. 

The sight of it made him pause. For a second, just a second, he regretted ever doing this. He regretted following Potter and seeing him bleed. He regretted becoming friends with Luna. He regretted caring about them or their club. 

His eyes burned, but he refused to let himself cry here, where this monster person would see. 

He thought of his friends’ faces from last night. Blaise’s glare and Pansy’s pity. Maybe he understood. Maybe he understood them better than he let on, even to himself. He was letting himself get hung up on a cause, a group of people, without thinking of the consequences. He was following only what he wanted in the moment. 

He wanted to be close to Potter. He wanted to care about the people Potter cared about. He wanted to be part of something important. 

He wanted to punish himself for failure.

But so what? The thought spurred him into writing again, furiously. So what if he was doing what he wanted to? Wasn’t Slytherin the selfish house? Didn’t all Malfoys do what suited them? Even his Black side was full of people who did whatever they wanted. 

Right now he wanted to feel better about his mistake. He wanted to get rid of Umbridge so he couldn’t make the same one again. 

So he would. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco was walking back to the dungeons, not paying much attention to his surroundings, when a sudden tap on his shoulder made him startle. 

When he whipped around he was surprised to see Luna behind him, a solemn look on her face. He’d barely blurted a surprised “Luna!” when she was holding out a black and white square of cloth.

Her voice was just as solemn as her facial expression. “Here, for your hand. Pansy told me what you were doing.”

Draco took it on reflex mostly. It seemed to be a handkerchief with little white birds on it. Draco inspected it with great care to keep from meeting Luna’s eye. It forcibly reminded him of when he’d given his own handkerchief to Potter for the same purpose.

“They’re little  caladrius'. I transfigured the polka dots when Pansy told me. They promote healing.”

Leave it to Luna to be so thoughtful. Draco looked up at her and smiled. “As long as it doesn’t heal too well. I need a scar you know.”

Luna frowned. “I’m sure you will scar. It’s the process that remains to be seen.”

Draco’s smile faded and he looked down again to press the cloth to the back of his hand. “Is that your way of saying you disapprove too?”

Luna didn’t answer right away, but instead started walking the same direction Draco had been before he’d been stopped. Draco fell into step next to her. He didn’t offer her his arm, and she didn’t reach for it, so that Draco could continue pressing the cloth to his bloody hand.

They’d gone down two more hallways before Luna spoke again. “Pansy told me that it was Crabbe and Goyle who told Umbridge. That you’d accidentally given them some information while handling Marietta Edgecombe.”

Draco was careful not to show any change in expression, his eyes facing forward. “That’s right. I didn’t give them everything, just enough to make them think they should do something. Then I let them trick me into letting them go off on their own. I underestimated them. I never even considered that they were the source of the leak.”

“So you made a mistake. Are you sorry?” Luna was also looking straight ahead with a blank expression. Draco could see when he looked out of the corner of his eye.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek to stop the tide that wanted to come out of his mouth. It was only once he’d gotten his thoughts ordered that he responded. “Yes. I’m sorry I hurt the people I care about. I’m sorry I made a mistake at all. Malfoys aren’t meant to make mistakes like that. They-we, aren’t made to feel sorry.”

Luna made a thoughtful noise. “Is that why you think you need to hurt yourself to fix it? The feeling hurts you, so you think hurting more in a different way will sort it out again?”

Draco glared at the ground in front of them. “I don’t know.” 

Draco stopped walking and spun around to face Luna again, his tension uncoiling in dramatic gestures and looks as he struggled to get his point across. “All I know is that no one is safe with Umbridge here. That I made people even more unsafe when I made my mistake! As soon as the leak happened I’ve been thinking up plans to try and get her removed, and none of them seemed as likely to work as this one! I made the problem so I need to fix it! It’s as simple as that! You and Pansy and Blaise all talk like I  _ want _ to hurt myself! I don’t understand why you all insist on treating this situation like that when it’s just cleaning up after myself!”

Draco paused to take a breath and in that moment Luna leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. “Okay.”

Draco took a second to figure out what was going on and then cautiously returned the hug. “Okay?”

Luna gave him a squeeze before letting go, leaning back into her own space, and smiling. “Okay. Thank you for working on getting rid of Umbridge. I forgive you for making a mistake.”

Draco blinked at her a couple times in astonishment. It felt like all of his tension from a minute ago had disappeared. “Just like that? You’re fine with it?”

“I’m not fine with what Umbridge is making you do. But we’re friends aren’t we?” 

Luna’s head tilted a bit to the side like she was really asking, so Draco responded seriously. “I consider us so, yes.”

Luna bounced a bit of the balls of her feet. “I do as well. That’s why I forgave you for making a mistake even before you made it. You don’t need to prove to me that you’re sorry when I know you are. What people need to do to prove to  _ themselves  _ they’re sorry isn’t really anyone’s business. I trust that if you say you aren’t punishing yourself, but instead righting a wrong, that you’re telling the truth. If you find out later that you were wrong, I’ll still be here for you.”

Draco was smiling before he knew it. “No one’s ever just forgiven me like that before. I didn’t know it could feel so good to be forgiven.”

Luna nodded seriously. “Yes, sometimes I think that must be why humans have to make mistakes. So we can learn what being forgiven feels like.”

Draco’s smile softened. “I want to be there for you as well. I know we can’t see each other during the day, but when Umbridge is gone it should be less dangerous to spend time together outside school hours.”

Luna beamed. “I’ll look forward to it. For now, though, I suppose I should go. We are quite near the Slytherin common room.”

Draco darted a look around and realized Luna was right. They were already in the dungeons and only a couple corners away from the entrance. “Will you be fine getting back?”

“Oh, yes. I made a deal with Anthony, he’s waiting to walk with me back near where I ran into you.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “What did you- nevermind. I’m not sure I want to know. That was smart anyway.” 

Draco then leaned in and initiated a hug for the first time. 

Luna was still smiling as she skipped away up the corridor. 

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


The day after his meeting with Luna Draco returned to almost normal . His fame from the Quidditch match was dwindling as people in his house seemed to recall that they’d lost even if the Gryffindors had lost team members. 

Pansy and Blaise were still being a bit standoffish, but after last night Draco was sure they’d come around once he was done with his detentions and on to the next part of his plan. With fewer people distracting him, he was able to get back to focusing on his lessons. Even Potter was still ignoring him, which was actually a good thing for once -- he didn’t want to alert Potter that something was going on until it was too late for Potter to accidentally mess it up.

A large bandage over the back of his hand and some dramatic gestures about how Professor Sprout let the tentacula vine grow everywhere and no one remained curious about his hand. 

When he went to his third detention he found that his hand no longer shook when it picked up the Quill. More than that even, Umbridge had seemed to cease caring much about him as the days passed and he seemed to be learning his lesson. From what he’d heard she was still struggling to deal with McGonagall’s reaction to Potter’s and the Weasley twins’ ban from Quidditch, as well as Hagrid’s return.

Draco smirked down at the already bloody parchment at the thought. She wouldn’t see him coming. If she was already this uncaring by day three, by the time he was done she’d consider the matter dealt with. Maybe try to persuade him to her side again in the wake. 

He could imagine the types of things she’d say to convince him.  _ You didn’t like that did you? Now you have an itsy little reminder not to step out of line. If you’d only help me this won’t have to happen again, and your position would be just that much higher. _

The thought of her appealing to his better graces after this made him press down on the parchment as if he was stabbing the version of her in his mind with the Quill. The added dig into the back of his hand increased his surge of satisfaction. 

That thought got him through the rest of that night. 

When the next two came around he’d worked himself into a pattern. His mind would circle all the things he’d done wrong throughout the day, as they always did at night or when he was alone. He’d imagine he was writing the mistake down on his parchment instead of the sentence Umbridge had crafted for him. He’d let himself really feel the pain of it, and then he’d think about how he was doing this to get rid of Umbridge. How the pain was atonement for anything he needed it to be. That it was his way of proving he was sorry without saying it, like Luna had said.

He’d hardly noticed when it was Friday night and his detentions were over. He only remembered at the last second to rip off a corner of his parchment to take with him as insurance. He acted fatigued as he left, knocking his stack of papers onto the floor so he could rearrange them as he picked them up, sure that Umbridge was too lazy to look over more than the top one.

He walked all the way back to Slytherin in a daze, wondering at how well things had gone in the first step, clutching Luna’s handkerchief to his bleeding and now unsteady hand. His bloody piece of parchment hidden in his wand pocket in his robes.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Saturday Draco spent on edge. He secluded himself in a corner of the library to hide it, but he kept anticipating the walk to Umbridge’s office, only to remember that he was done. He found himself tapping the back of his bandaged hand with the tip of his regular eagle feather quill. 

He’d completed his homework and moved on to fine-tuning the next stage of his plan when he realized that Pansy and Blaise had never sought him out. He’d been convinced that they would have gotten over things by then. It gave him a bad feeling that made the back of his hand itch. 

He tried to ignore the feeling as he penned his note to Uncle Severus asking if he could have tea with him in his office the next day to discuss his last Potions grade.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Uncle Severus was quick to send a note back accepting Draco’s request for a meeting. Draco wondered as he headed down to the dungeons after lunch on Sunday if it was because he’d been worrying about him again. 

Draco paused with his hand an inch from Uncle Severus’s office door, about to knock when he felt something different about the door. He sighed. The worry would be nice if Uncle Severus didn’t go about it so oddly. He doubted what he was going to say warranted new wards around his office door.

Draco went ahead and knocked anyway. He figured whatever Uncle Severus had done, it wouldn’t hurt him. 

Uncle Severus was unusually fast to open the door. Almost like he’d been waiting right behind it. Draco raised an eyebrow at him and Uncle Severus glared in return, snapping around with a dramatic swoosh of his robes and a clipped, “Enter.”

Uncle Severus could tell Draco knew he was worried and everything from the actual worry to Draco knowing made Uncle Severus uncomfortable. Draco knowing it made him uncomfortable doubled his discomfort. 

Not for the first time, Draco wondered about Uncle Severus’s upbringing and parents. He knew next to nothing about the man’s childhood, but he often pictured it as very lonely and cold. A true sort of pureblood’s upbringing really, but without the status. 

Draco was careful to shut the door behind him with a solid click to insure the wards re-engaged, noticing that Uncle Severus had already had the house elfs send up a tea tray. Draco almost respected Uncle Severus more for working through his discomfort.

Draco took a long look around Uncle Severus’s office as he crossed it to the chair positioned opposite his godfather’s at his desk. It was obvious to Draco that Uncle Severus had been brewing like usual in his office, but what was unusual was that this time it appeared to be a potion that the Ministry had deemed illegal.

Draco slumped a bit with a furrowed brow. “Why are you brewing so much Veritaserum? Isn’t Umbridge still snooping around down here?”

Uncle Severus’s upper lip curled in displeasure, but Draco couldn’t tell if it was at Umbridge or the potion. “Her presence is precisely  _ why _ I’m brewing so much of this twice-damned potion.”

Uncle Severus snatched at his teacup to fill it, pouring some hot water into Draco’s as well and pushing it in his direction. Draco clicked his spoon on the edge as he stirred in exactly three sugars. “Does she have an interest in Veritaserum?”

Uncle Severus ignored the sugar, but added a small splash of cream that he swirled intently. “I thought you had something important to discuss?”

Draco looked up from his tea to regard his godfather. “You think Umbridge being interested in a  _ truth potion _ isn’t important?”

Uncle Severus scoffed, but relented. “She’s been making several pointed remarks about acquiring some, implying that she’d put in a good word with the Minister for any…  _ helpful  _ brewers. Implying that because she was a Ministry official that it was legal for her to use it as much as she wants. She practically threw herself at me when she saw what I was working on yesterday. She was much less pleased when I told her it would take a month to finish.”

Uncle Severus’s lips actually curved into the beginnings of a smile at the thought of her displeasure. Draco raised his cup to hide his own smile. He knew Uncle Severus had been looking for a way to get revenge ever since she had reviewed his class. His tea was still too hot and burned his tongue going down. He was careful not to wince. “Still… you’re not going to actually give her any, are you?”

Uncle Severus’s almost smile faded; “No, of course not. I know perfectly well her first order of business with it would be hunting down Potter’s club, and Dumbledore has too much of a soft spot to want to see that happen.” Uncle Severus trailed his eyes down to Draco’s left hand where it was resting on the table. His lips pursed. “Unfortunately, if you keep getting in her way,  _ you _ may be her second order of business.”

Draco looked away down at his hands where he’d folded his right over his left and was rubbing along the edge of his bandage. “I didn’t get in trouble with Umbridge without reason. I have a plan. In fact, I came here to….” Draco’s thumb paused. He looked up and straight into Uncle Severus’s eyes. “Wait. Do you  _ know _ what she’s doing?”

Uncle Severus scowled. “Not definitely. Just that it causes pain to one’s hand. Potter’s less subtle than even your dramatics.”

Draco scowled back, not even the taste of one of his favorite teas lessening how frustrated he was at this news. “Don’t tell me Dumbledore knows and let his precious Potter be hurt?

Uncle Severus took a long draft of tea. His cup clanged against his saucer when he set it down. “I don’t dare guess at what the headmaster does or does not know. I know his biggest source for information in the castle is the portraits and that none of them can get into Umbridge’s office or private rooms.” 

Draco stared into his tea as he thought. “I don’t think she’s gotten any other students besides Potter and me.” Draco tapped the side of his cup so the smooth surface broke into ripples. “If one of those students  _ wasn’t  _ Potter, I’d say Dumbledore doesn’t know, but he constantly has his nose in anything to do with…”

Draco suddenly remembered how Potter had reacted when he’d suggested he tell Dumbledore or another teacher what was going on, how he’d gotten angrier every time he mentioned an adult. 

Draco was broken out of his thoughts by Uncle Severus giving a loud sigh. “What plot are you hatching now? You know I hate it when you make that face.”

Draco looked back up at Uncle Severus, his eyebrows raised in surprise at his own thoughts. “Are.. are Dumbledore and Potter not getting along? And since when? The end of last year they were practically in each other’s pockets.”

Uncle Severus became visibly tense. “I cannot answer that question.”

Draco glared at him. He took another drink of his tea. “What do you mean you can’t answer? This is important.”

Uncle Severus sighed. “I’m not going to break my confidence with Dumbledore to my 15 year old godson so that he can scheme. I’ve spent almost half my life winning his trust, I’m not going to break it now.”

Draco stood up and slammed his hands on the desk so that he could lean over it. The whole tea set rattled at the force of his anger. Uncle Severus didn’t flinch back at all at Draco’s cold glare. Draco didn’t raise his voice, but he made sure to channel all of his pain, frustration, and anger into his words. 

“If my plan falls through because Dumbledore refuses to act and I got  _ tortured _ for  _ nothing _ and you could have warned me and didn’t, I will  _ never _ forgive you Uncle Severus. Not if I live to be 200. Not if this plan fails and I have to watch my  _ friends _ fall to that  _ Bitch _ as well. I am  _ not _ playing around.”

Draco held his look for a second before falling back into his chair. He covered his face with his hands, speaking into them with a tired voice. “I don’t understand why you and my friends all act as if this isn’t important. I’m not doing this for no reason.”

When Uncle Severus still didn't reply Draco dragged his hands down off his face and looked back up to see what Uncle Severus’s reaction was. His mouth was parted like it wanted to fall open and only wasn’t by strength of will, his face was at least one shade too pale, and his eyes stared straight ahead. It took him a second to meet Draco’s surprised look. “You. Didn’t. Say. Anything. About. Torture.”

Draco grimaced and took a shaky sip of tea. “Yes, well. I didn’t need you going into a rage about it, now did I?”

Uncle Severus’s eyes narrowed at him. “You didn’t want me stopping it because you wanted to use it.”

Draco looked away, and in that second Uncle Severus lunged his hand across the desk and grabbed Draco’s left hand off the desk, and ripped the bandage off before Draco could do more than cry out.

The whole back of his hand was now red and inflamed surrounding the still scabbing cuts. The words were still very clear despite the puffiness and clotting. “”I am not important’. She used her Black Quill on you.”

Draco held very still under Uncle Severus’s inspection. The dark look Uncle Severus was giving his hand was making him nervous. He was worried that any second his hands would start to shake. 

After what felt like a solid minute Uncle Severus dropped his hand and was standing up and taking off halfway across his office in a flutter of robes and dark mutters. Draco snatched his hand back toward his chest as he watched Uncle Severus gather several things from his stores.

He came back with two bottles and a stone bowl, Draco moved his tea and saucer back to the tray before Uncle Severus accidentally spilled or broke it slamming the things down on his desk. “Have you been treating it with anything?”

Draco frowned at him. “I just cleaned it out with water until yesterday when I used some dittany. I needed to make sure it would scar like Potter’s without me needing two weeks of detention.”

A muscle twitched in Uncle Severus’s jaw as he uncorked the bottles and carefully mixed them in the stone bowl. After a moment he was able to reply. “Using only water can still run the risk of infection.” Uncle Severus paused to huff out an angry breath. “These quills were never meant to be used so many times in succession. They’re spelled to keep your blood from beginning to clot until you’ve finished writing your name, or whatever other legal or ritualistic words you would need to write in blood. Much like a mosquito. As long as the quill is touching parchment it will keep your wound open. Once you lift it up, you trigger a basic healing spell that can easily reverse the damage of a few words. Using it over and over will build up the anticoagulant properties and curtail the effectiveness of the healing spell. There isn’t a healing spell in existence that can be layered like that, so repeated usage of a Blood Quill doesn’t just blunt your body’s abilities to self-heal, but can actually thwart minor healing spells from being helpful on the same body part again. Overall it ends up with an effect similar to dark magic.”

Uncle Severus finished mixing the two liquids. “Roll up your sleeve and put your hand in here.”

Draco immediately started working on his shirt cuff. “What is it?”

Uncle Severus scoffed. “It’s only dittany mixed with essence of murtlap. Murtlap is good for inflammation and mixed with dittany can help prevent infection. I know one spell that  _ might _ heal it entirely, since it was developed to work on a type of dark magic that left cuts, but I doubt you want it gone after going to so much trouble to get it.”

Draco gave Uncle Severus his own dark look. “You’d be right.”

He just finished securing his sleeve back and stuck his hand into the liquid. It stung for a second, before a wave of cool relief swept over his hand. He hadn’t even realized how much it had continued to bother him.

Uncle Severus gave him a knowing look when Draco let out a long breath. 

When Uncle Severus was sure Draco wasn’t going to take his hand out, he sat back down and pulled his tea toward him, casting a quick reheating charm at his and Draco’s cups. They sat drinking in a comfortable silence, while Draco let his thoughts settle on how good the balm felt on his hand.

Once the tea was gone Draco sighed and prepared to get back to business. “My next step is to find a way to notify my parents that something is wrong. Ideally I want them to demand a meeting with Dumbledore. I know my mail is going to be checked for the next while. I wanted to ask if Umbridge was checking yours.”

Uncle Severus pursed his lips before draining his last sip of tea as well. “She checks the staff's mail even more thoroughly than the students’. She can’t check every student, but she can easily get all of the staff’s mail. In fact, she informed us she would be checking, and that anyone caught trying to get mail past her would be immediately put on probation. It’s a disgrace.”

Draco sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. To treat fellow teachers like that. Draco couldn’t even imagine. “Do you know who she might be targeting? Or how for that matter?”

Uncle Severus sneered. “Potter and anyone with the last name Weasley. Granger, if she’s smart. Now you. Anyone who sends a package instead of a letter. She’s got Filch near the owlery as much as possible, and I’m decently sure she borrowed some of the Ministry’s trained attack owls. Potter’s owl came back injured. But they only have about a dozen of those owls at the Ministry, I doubt she has more than five at the most.”

Draco smirked. “My second option should work fine then.”

Uncle Severus raised an eyebrow. 

Draco gave a casual shrug. “Us purebloods have ways.”

Uncle Severus rolled his eyes. “For your sake I hope so.”

Draco dropped his smirk and cast an anxious glance at his injured hand in the bowl in front of him. “I hope so too.”

Uncle Severus frowned in concern, his eyes following Draco’s to his hand. “Don’t worry about Dumbledore. He’s an old conniving fool, but he’ll act when he needs too. I’ll make sure of it.”

Uncle Severus’s voice had the air of a vow, and Draco felt some of the tension he’d been carrying for the last week leave him.


	9. Real or Even Possible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Draco's scheming. And what's this? Must be a Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skating in two hours after midnight, but It's here. 
> 
> Much thanks to my beta: FerchKalvaNiibi
> 
> My secret alternate title for this chapter is Molly Does Too Much Research About Cyphers. I'm sorry in advance but please put up with it, I wanted to use my new info lol.

By the time Draco left Severus’s office dinner had been going on for a half hour already. If Draco couldn’t rely on Severus to send a letter for him, then the next obvious choice would be Pansy. Draco searched the entire Slytherin table at dinner and couldn’t find her. 

He had no choice but to eat as fast as he could and try to track her down after. 

It turned out not to be too hard. Draco found her at a back table in the library studying with Milli. Milli spotted him first and tapped Pansy on the shoulder to get her to look up from her book. She must have been invested in what she was reading, because she startled.

Draco could feel that they’d silenced the whole area around them as he walked closer. The feeling of walking through the wall of silence made his ears pop.

Draco threw himself into one of the chairs across from Pansy. “I need to talk to Pansy alone.”

Milli looked quickly from Draco to Pansy. Pansy had seemingly gone back to reading, her voice tense, “I happen to be busy just now.”

Draco closed his eyes for a second, summoning patience. When he opened them again, he was making eye contact with Milli who had a curious look. “It’s important. I promise I’ll leave you to whatever you're doing shortly.”

Pansy gave an unladylike snort. “Oh, that’s likely. You probably just want to beg me to do something for you.”

Draco grimaced. She wasn’t wrong. “Please, Pansy.”

His voice had sounded more vulnerable than he’d meant it to. Pansy must have heard it too, because she sighed and slammed her book closed. “You have ten minutes. Milli, don’t go far, I want your opinion on this.”

Milli nodded, a concerned look on her face as she left the table. “I’ll go rummage around the section we were just talking about.”

Pansy’s eyes were like a basilisk’s when she turned to look at him. 

Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably. It was rare for Pansy to be mad at him. He honestly hadn’t expected it after that talk they’d had earlier in the week. Blaise, yes, Pansy, no. It made asking her to do this a rather harder task. 

“I need you to write to my mother and include my message to her in the envelope.”

Pansy glared. “Part of your mission to get rid of Umbridge I’m assuming. I told you I didn’t approve. Why would I help you?”

“Because she’s watching mine and Snape’s mail?” 

When Pansy looked unmoved Draco grit his teeth and reached into his pocket. When his fingers grabbed what he was after, he slammed it down on the table. Pansy leaned forward to look at it but Draco kept his hand over it. “Look at this and know that she’s going to get more confident and do this to more and more people the longer she’s here. I’m a Slytherin and she got me Pans. She’s not going to hesitate.”

Draco removed his hand and Pansy saw what it was. It was the scrap of parchment with his words on it. Pansy paled dramatically as she read aloud, “I am not important. Oh, Draco.”

Since they’d stopped speaking to him in private before the words had sunk in, they’d never seen his wound or what he was made to write over and over. He’d half hoped they wouldn’t ever have to know out of shame, even though it didn’t make sense they would never see the back of his hand again. But, then, the other half of him had known it might be useful as leverage should he come out the worse for their confusing argument about his choices. He wasn’t sure if he liked being right in this instance.

Draco had to swallow a painful lump in his throat before he could talk. “I could ask just about anyone to do this for me, but it wouldn’t make sense with them. You’ve sent letters to mother before about parties and social etiquette. It wouldn’t be suspicious.”

Pansy’s eyes were wet when she tore them up from the parchment to his face. “Draco. Blaise has a crush on you.”

The words were all Pansy, blunt and to the point. But it took Draco a second of blank staring to get it through his head. “What. Why?”

Pansy’s eyes widened in disbelief, making a couple tears spill over. She wiped at them in disgust. “What do you mean why, you idiot?”

Draco’s brain finally seemed to kick back on. “I mean, he knows about…” Draco trailed off and looked around their table, paranoid that someone would overhear them despite the spells around the table. Draco continued in a whisper. “Well, about Potter.”

Pansy sniffled as she worked to get a hold of herself. “I don’t know. You can’t help who you get feelings for. He knows it’s pointless. But that’s why he was so upset about this. He has feelings for you and didn’t want to watch you do something that would hurt you.”

Draco looked down at his bandaged hand and toyed with the edge of the bandage. “I thought we were friends.”

Draco wasn’t sure how he felt about any of this. If he was finding this out months ago, when he’d just come back to Hogwarts, before the Veritaserum, before they’d gotten close, Draco would have been happy about it. Blaise was attractive and a Slytherin AND a pureblood. He was exactly the kind of boy Draco might be allowed to have a relationship with. He wasn’t set to leave at the end of the year like Draco’s Durmstrang fling, and he was Slytherin and pureblood enough to understand the kind of secrecy Draco would need. It would be perfect.

Now, it felt wrong. Now it felt like Draco was hurting his friend somehow by not being able to return his feelings. And Blaise knew. Blaise knew that Draco was too wrapped up in Potter to let himself even pretend he could fall for someone else. Draco would never want to try with Blaise either, because if he did and was still unable to forget Potter, Blaise would be hurt even worse and he might lose Blaise’s friendship.

Draco was so lost in thought he didn’t see Pansy lean forward until her hand was over his. “If it makes you feel any better he didn’t want to tell you. He’s off with some blonde Ravenclaw boy trying to move on so things aren’t so.... complicated between you two. He’s angry with himself as much as he is with you. He told us himself he hates getting too invested.”

Draco’s voice was thin when he replied. “He also told us he was our friend. Now he’s pulling away because he’s scared?”

Pansy squeezed Draco’s hand. Draco didn’t make a noise even though it hurt. “He’s not scared of the friendship, Draco. He’s scared of his feelings for you. Scared of ruining things.”

Draco looked up and met Pansy’s eyes. “You became friends with me because you were expecting a romantic relationship too. Is that the only reason anyone would want to spend time with me?”

Pansy grimaced and let go of Draco’s hand, sitting back in her chair. “It’s not like that Draco. When we were little I never had romantic feelings for you. But by the time we got to Hogwarts I let our parents’ talk get to my head. I convinced myself we were meant to be. But it wasn’t real. It was just a lie I told myself. When we kissed last year I already suspected, but that confirmed it for me. That we weren’t in love. That I didn’t have feelings for you. And look how close we’ve gotten since then. I feel like we’ve become better friends than ever.”

Draco looked away and tapped at the table. Pansy was right. Before this year there had been a barrier between them, and with the pretense of their relationship gone they were much closer. 

Pansy knocked on the table to get Draco to look back over at her. “Blaise became your friend without having any feelings for you. He only developed them later. Very recently even. He told me he realized after we took the Veritaserum. And he hates it. He knew you’d feel like this. That’s why he didn’t want to tell you. But I’m telling you now so you know why he got so mad. How would you feel if you’d just realized you had feelings for someone and then found out they were on some sort of self-proclaimed mission that got them hurt?”

Draco was feeling better enough to raise an eyebrow at Pansy. “And you weren’t bothered at all because you have no feelings for me?”

Pansy scoffed. “He also hasn’t known you as long as I have, you utter pillock. He doesn’t understand yet that there’s no stopping you when you want something. He hasn’t gotten used to your plotting. Remember Buckbeak in third year?”

Draco scowled and looked away. “I thought we agreed to never discuss that again?”

Pansy kicked at him under the table. “Prat.”

Draco didn’t turn to look but kicked back at her. He smirked when she hissed as he made contact. “Trollop.”

Both of them went quiet for a minute. Draco did finally turn back to see what Pansy was doing. She was holding the scrap of parchment again. She must have seen him turn, because she stopped fiddling with it to meet his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know what this means. If she doesn’t see you as important,  _ who  _ would she see as important? I know we’re all in danger. And I know you’re now in more danger than ever. You’re my best friend. Somehow. I do want to help.”

Draco didn’t move when he responded. “So help me. Somehow you’re my best friend too, Pansy.”

Pansy dropped the scrap onto her book and clenched her hands into fists on the table. “Just. Just tell me you’re getting something out of this too. That it wasn’t just for Potter that you started this.” Draco was alarmed to see Pansy’s eyes start to well up again. “I’m afraid if you start hurting yourself for Potter you’ll never stop. I wish you would fall in love with Blaise, I wouldn’t have to worry about you so much.”

It was Draco’s turn to reach across the table and put a hand over Pansy’s white knuckles. “Pansy…”

Pansy glared at him even as her hands shook under his. “You get something in return for this Draco. I don’t care what. Something tangible that can’t be taken away. Something more than Potter’s gratitude. You don’t let anyone forget who got rid of Umbridge. Do you hear me? If you try to play this off, or hide it, or let yourself be satisfied with just a thank you, I’ll never forgive you.”

Draco was concerned, but faked a smirk. “When have I ever let myself be satisfied with just a thank you?”

It felt like Pansy was seeing all the way through him, to his soul, when she replied. “You’d be satisfied if it were Potter. If Potter thanked you.”

Draco’s mouth snapped shut, his lips tight. The two of them looked at each other for a bit. Draco came to an easy decision. “I promise Pansy.”

Pansy wiped at her eyes again with the hand Draco wasn’t holding and smiled up at him, but it reminded him more of sharks and snakes than sunshine.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco found himself discomfited by his meeting with Pansy. He went straight from the library to the dorm and ensconced himself behind his curtains before anyone could stop him to chat. He spent the next hour or so figuring out which codes to use in his message to his mother, jittering from one to the other, afraid even as he did it that none of them would escape Umbridge’s notice. 

In the end he decided on a short, obscure plea for help using a foreign language his mother was quite adept at: the language of flowers. 

Amaranthus

Sweet Briar

Bird’s foot trefoil

Meaning: love lies bleeding, being wounded, and revenge, respectively. 

Draco’s problem was that he wanted to convey who was doing the wounding should something happen and he was unable to tell them in person who it was. After reading through both his herbology textbook, and the book on plants his mother had given him for his 12th birthday, he gave up on finding a flower to symbolize Umbridge and improvised. 

He added pink Tudor Rose to the list and hoped his mother could tell who he meant. He thought that she would at least get that it was someone from the government by the Tudor Rose bit. He didn’t know anyone in the Ministry more pink than the Umbitch.

Draco had decided to encode even that short message further, when he found himself dozing off over his parchment. He was haunted by strange floaty dreams of numbers and letters and running from something.

He was jerked awake only when Pansy threw open his curtains and screeched at him, almost making him fall off his bed when he rolled over to grab his wand from his nightstand only to realize his head was on the wrong end of his bed. “What are you doing Draco! You missed our first class and Potions starts in ten minutes!”

  
  


Draco heaved himself up and onto his knees in a blind panic. Pansy reached forward and pulled a piece of parchment off his cheek where it had stuck itself when he’d fallen asleep in the wet ink. “Urgh, you’re a wreck! Hurry up and we can fix whatever mess is left during break. I’m going to go save you a seat just in case.”

  
  


Draco scowled at the world as he got a change of clothes out of his trunk and sped to the bathroom to wash his face. Pansy had already gone.

  
  


He was lucky that the Slytherin dorms were so close to the Potions classroom. He practically flew in, with barely a minute left to spare, feeling more disgruntled and unorganized than he’d ever been in his life. The whole class was already seated and turned to watch him. Draco locked eyes with Potter and almost tripped into his seat next to Pansy.

The only one who didn’t turn to look at him was Blaise on Pansy’s other side. Draco pointedly ignored this and focused on getting his things out. Potter’s stare on one side and Blaise’s lack of attention pushing on him from opposite directions. Draco couldn’t have been happier when Snape started class, putting an end to it.

The potion they were brewing needed a lot of attention at the beginning and the end, but had a long simmer time in the middle. 

Draco was glad because it meant he could focus on the code he’d fallen asleep over.

The code gave him a good excuse to not talk to Pansy. If Blaise saw them being too chummy while he and Pansy were meant to be mad at him he could suspect that Pansy had told him his secret. But Draco could spot that Pansy wasn’t doing much talking to Blaise either, instead Milli had gently tugged a strand of Pansy’s hair from her seat behind her to get her attention shortly after they’d started the simmering process and Pansy had turned to talk to her. Draco wondered if Pansy and Blaise were fighting as well. It would explain Pansy’s willingness to spill one of his secrets.

By the time his potion was done, Draco had finished encrypting his message. 

The first way he’d encrypted it was by using a Vigenère cipher using Pansy as his keyword so it’d be easy for his mother to guess. It’d taken him a while to choose, but in the end the pressing Blaise issue had given him the idea, as he and Vigenère shared the same first name. Using a code associated with both his friends' names felt like he was trusting them to protect it. With that method his message came out relatively scrambled.

  
  


Pmnjyctumq

Hwrwr Qrvsp

qiev’q uobl rgesgga

Pvfi Iuqgp gofw

  
  


It had still bothered Draco though. The repeating letters made him worry it was too recognizable as a code and too easily breakable. In the end he’d done one final easy encryption and simply written the letters as their corresponding number. He felt that a series of numbers on the back of Pansy’s letter would be less suspicious than words or letters. 

  
  


16-13-14-10-25-3-20-21-13-17

8-23-18-23-18 17-18-22-19-16

17-9-5-22 17 21-15-2-12 18-7-5-19-7-7-1

16-22-6-9 9-21-17-7-16 7-15-6-23

  
  


Draco was so anxious that everything went right, he almost let his potion simmer too long, only saving it at the last second with a muttered swear. The result was a sky blue with tiny champagne-esque bubbles. 

  
  


It reminded him that he hadn’t even addressed the issue of his godfather brewing huge cauldrons full of truth potion. If he wasn’t going to give it to Umbridge, what was he going to use it for? If he wasn’t going to use it for anything, he could have pretended to brew Veritaserum using less expensive and hard to get ingredients to fool Umbridge. She seemed the type that he could have been stirring water and she’d fall for it.

  
  


The stress made his head throb. He rubbed at his temple and saw Potter watching him again from across the aisle. Draco sneered at him and gestured at Potter’s potion just as it flared up and singed Potter’s eyebrows. 

  
  


Draco laughed so hard he forgot his headache.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

  
  


Pansy pulled him into an alcove after dinner and handed him her letter. It was filled with boring etiquette questions, mostly about courting, using the excuse that Pansy was nervous about entering the world of courting in the summer. Draco was quite sure she knew the answers to her own questions and equally sure that if she didn’t her own mother would be drilling her in them. But the ruse was a good one. 

Draco vanished her valediction and wrote the school motto under her name in his own handwriting. 

  
  


Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus

  
  


It was innocuous by itself, but it also contained his name, and in his handwriting. Draco hoped it would help to tip his mother off to what this letter was really about. He added his encoded message to the back and handed it back to Pansy.

She examined it for a second with pursed lips, before reaching into her pocket for her wand.

“What are you doing? You better not change anything with my codes, I’ve worked hard on them.” Even Draco could hear the strained edge to his voice. 

Pansy tsked and showed him that she was actually reaching into her pocket for the scrap paper with his words on it that he’d shown her last night. “I’m not going to ruin your precious code. I’m going to cast a sticking charm on this so it’s stuck to my letter over your message on the back face down. That way it covers the message and once she gets it up she can see firsthand what’s been done to you.”

Draco grimaced but could see how good of an idea it was. 

Pansy took one look at his face and groaned. “You’re an idiot! What, you think she won’t see it? You can’t go to them for help and still keep what’s actually going on a secret. Please, don’t tell me you didn’t think this through?”

Draco looked away from her at the stone wall. “Of course I thought this through. I know she’s going to see it. It just… feels different now that I’ve actually gotten the injury.” Draco looked at Pansy quickly. She had one side of her mouth twisted up. Draco quickly looked down between them and muttered. “It’s just going to hurt her is all. Seeing it.”

Draco recalled how upset she’d been during third year with the Hippogriff, and her intense face over their joined hands at the dining room table before he’d left for school. How she’d rushed him off to the woods during the Quidditch cup before she’d gone back to join her husband. How she’d sent him a letter almost everyday during second year even though he’d been in no danger as a pureblood. That she had wanted to take him home right after the last task last year and was only stopped by Draco’s father.

Draco looked back at Pansy. She met his eye for a second before she was raising her wand to cast, her bottom lip between her teeth.

When she was done she let Draco see it for a second. Draco had written his message on the back of the letter. The parchment with his words on it was a slightly different color than the parchment Pansy had written her letter on, and the whole section it covered was slightly raised. Not obvious enough that anyone but someone looking for something wrong would notice.

Draco barely had a second to nod before Pansy was stuffing it into an envelope she’d already addressed. 

Draco grabbed her arm as she turned to head out of the alcove. She swung around to face him immediately. “Thank you Pansy. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pansy smiled for just a second. “Let’s hope we don’t have to find out, hmm?”

Draco’s lips twitched up into the facsimile of a return smile, and Pansy dashed off. 

Draco stayed where he was for a long time, just staring at the wall opposite. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if this failed. He wouldn’t be the only one in danger from Umbridge.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco knew he had at least two days until he heard from his parents since it took Pansy’s horned owl, Bruiser, about 11 hours to get to his mansion from school. They’d tested it once, sending their owls to each other's houses from school, to see how long it would take to send the other a letter if one or the other was stuck at school. 

It was just hard to remember that after having had to listen to Umbridge do exactly what he thought she’d do by trying to recruit him again the next day. 

It had been a horrible balancing act for Draco, telling her no without getting himself in detention again. Now that she’d tortured him once with no apparent consequences he had no illusions she wouldn’t do it again. 

All Draco wanted to do was study, holed up as he was in the library trying to get his brain to retain  _ anything _ he’d learned that day. His mind spent all its time off with his letter, hoping Bruiser had gotten past the Ministry attack owls. Hoping his mother could decode his message. Hoping that if she could she’d know the right thing to do.

When his mind wasn’t off in that direction, it was pulled in a million others. Blaise and his crush, Pansy and the danger she was in now if they got caught, Severus and his truth potion, even Crabbe and Goyle, whom he still wasn’t speaking with and how strange that was. 

He didn’t even have another of Potter’s meetings to look forward to, because the next one wasn’t until Thursday.

And that brought a problem of its own. Pansy’s words ringing through his head,  _ You get something in return for this Draco. I don’t care what. Something tangible that can’t be taken away. Something more than Potter’s gratitude. _

He knew exactly what he wanted. The issue would be convincing everyone else he was deserving of it.

Draco was distracted from picking at his bandage and reading the same sentence over and over by a huge crash from the next aisle over. He stood up fast, wand out, and edged over to the opening between his corner of the library and the next aisle.

What he saw made his blood boil and a curse fly to his lips. Luna was sprawled on the floor in a pile of books, the remains of the reshelving cart she was obviously pushed into. The culprit seemed to be an older Ravenclaw girl and her two friends. They seemed even older than Draco, NEWT students.

Draco still had his silencing spells up and couldn’t hear them, but the sneers on their faces were unmistakable. Luna’s nose was bleeding and she didn’t make a move to get off the floor. Draco could see one of the girl's friends, a boy of medium build with glasses, reach for Luna’s bookbag.

Draco snarled out his curse with perfect timing, as soon as the boy touched her bag his fingernails started growing uncontrollably. When he started panicking and grabbed for the girl who pushed Luna, Draco used Montague’s curse and she was soon covered in hair. The last of their group had backed away from them as fast as she could and ended up tripping over the very cart they’d pushed Luna into. She landed almost entirely on her wrist and Draco was satisfied to think that she had broken it. 

When they were gone Luna looked up from her ankle right at Draco and smiled. It was quite a vicious-looking smile with the blood from her nose spreading into her teeth, but Draco smiled back all the same. The smile suited her.

Draco cancelled his silencing spell, finally, and hurried over to where Luna was on the ground. When he crouched down to her level it was obvious her nose was broken. Draco hissed out through his teeth at the sight. “I’m going to cast a healing spell on your nose that should snap it back into place, okay?”

Luna gave as much of a nod as she could without making the bleeding worse.

Draco pointed his wand at Luna’s face-

“Hey! What are you doing!? Get away from Luna!”

Both Draco and Luna whipped around to see who was yelling. Luna seemed to light up when she saw Ginny Weasley, but Draco grimaced. He made a split second decision. Weasley wasn’t in cursing distance yet, she was too far up the aisle, and her wand wasn’t out yet, it was up in her hair. Draco put a hand on Luna’s shoulder to get her attention and whispered, “This is going to be uncomfortable.” Her face fell into confusion but she held still, her big eyes staring up at him. Draco cast quickly. “ _ Episkey.” _

Luna’s nose slid back into place with barely a flinch on Luna’s part. When it was back in order she beamed up at Draco, patting the hand on his arm a couple times. “Thank you, Draco.” She looked over his shoulder, probably at the oncoming Weasley and added, “I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Draco sighed and turned around. Weasley had stopped a few meters away from the two of them, her mouth was open, as if she was going to yell again but had stopped before it got out. 

When she saw Draco looking at her, she closed her gaping mouth and glared. “What are you doing with Luna?”

Draco sneered. “You saw what I was doing with Luna, She-Weasel. I healed her nose. Now, if you can’t tell, we need to get her up off the floor and probably to the hospital wing.”

At the use of Luna’s first name Weasley’s eyebrows flew up her forehead, but to her credit she did turn to look at Luna. When Draco turned back toward her as well Luna waved her hands in protest. “I’m really quite alright. I wouldn’t want to cause trouble.”

Draco rolled his eyes at her and shifted to her left side, taking her wrist and using it to wrap her arm around his shoulders. “Oh yes, the way you were clutching your ankle just  _ screams _ that you’re fine. Weasley, come take her other side before more people are drawn by the noise.”

Weasley jolted into action, immediately taking Luna’s other arm and wrapping it around her shoulders. The whole time her glare was strong though, and Draco knew that her help had nothing to do with him. 

Draco pointed toward the gap he’d widened between another reshelving cart and a bookcase that led back to his corner of the world. “Bring her through there. I’ll fix the cart once she’s sitting down and no one will know we’re over there.”

Weasley shot him a Look and snarled, but helped him get Luna into the next aisle and into the chair across from where he was sitting at the table, under the window. While Weasley sat down next to Luna, Draco cleaned up the mess of spilled books with magic, grabbed Luna’s bag, righted the knocked over cart, then hurriedly fixed the cart he’d moved himself just as he heard someone walking towards him.

Draco dropped dramatically into his seat and rubbed at his temple. This was just about his worst nightmare.

“Explain yourself Malfoy. Now.” 

Weasley didn’t hardly wait for him to sit down before questioning him. Draco looked up to glare at her for her cheek when Luna cut across anything he was going to say.

“It’s alright Ginny. He’s good to me. We’re cousins, you see.” Luna had put her hand on Weasley’s shoulder as if to soften the blow of her words. Draco still winced internally when he saw the look on her face. He’d never seen such complete confusion and impotent anger coming together.

Weasley whipped around toward Draco. “What do you mean -- cousins?” Weasley turned back to Luna. “We’ve been friends since second year and I’ve never seen you talk to him once. In fact his Slytherin cronies make fun of you. How can you trust him?”

Draco and Luna locked grey eyes across the table. Luna’s face seemed to be asking him a question. Draco nodded almost imperceptibly.

He hoped he was making the right choice.

Luna looked away back to Weasley and Draco took his wand out again, recasting his silencing spells, adding a notice-me-not just in case. “I don’t know for a fact we’re cousins, but I know my mother’s maiden name was Malfoy. I told Draco that myself.”

Weasley was gaping again. “What do you mean you told him yourself? Why would you tell him that? Why would you want to be related to  _ that  _ family?!”

Draco snapped around from where he was standing, finishing his casting. Draco snarled, “You don’t get to choose your family!”

Weasley’s glare melted into a blank stare at Draco, which he ignored and turned to add the last notice-me-not.

Luna started speaking again into the silence while Draco stewed at himself. He was mad he’d snapped like that. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his family. But. But…

“We started talking in the carriages at the end of last year. We came up with a theory involving the thestrals. We wanted to continue talking into this year, so I made Draco a journal like the one I offered to make you so we can talk to each other.”

Draco took his seat again and noticed that Weasley had gone pale under her freckles at the mention of a journal. Draco was burning with curiosity about such a reaction, but knew it wasn’t the time to pry.

Whatever the reaction was, it didn’t make Weasley lose any of her fire. “So you’ve just been chatting with the enemy all year?! You do know that his father is a Death Eater don’t you?”

Luna frowned. “His father is, yes. But I believe Draco is a good person.”

Weasley turned from Luna to Draco and back. “What has he ever done to prove he’s a good person? Ever since he’s come to school he’s been nothing but a bully, the same as whoever pushed you into that book cart!”

Draco gritted his teeth against the urge to defend himself. His clenched fists made the words on the back of his hand throb.

He wanted to shout from the rooftops what he’d done. What he’d been doing all year. But he couldn’t. Not really. 

Because it didn’t matter. 

Weasley was right.

It was Luna that jumped to his defence. “It’s not the same! He’s been helping all yea-”

Draco cut her off. “Luna. She’s right.”

Both of the girls turned to stare at him. Luna with a pained look and Weasley with a look of utter disbelief. “Did you just say I was right?”

Draco scowled and looked away. He had always known he wasn’t a very kind person. He’d never really cared to be before, only caring about what he and occasionally his friends wanted. This was the first time one of his friends was on the receiving end of an attack that reminded him so much of his own methods.

Looking at those three they might as well have been Draco and his friends. Even the methods he’d used to scare them off had been developed as a means of bullying Potter’s friends. If he was going to try and get the thing he really wanted though, he’d have to actually change. Not just fight Umbridge for his own sake, not just help Potter occasionally and hurt him other times depending on how he felt. 

He’d have to work on becoming a better person.

“I know I’m not a good person. But I like Luna. She’s interesting and a good friend.” Draco’s voice gave away his tension, but he still turned back to the two girls, taking it in turns to meet their eyes. “She makes me want to be a better person. I’d never hurt her. Not intentionally. If nothing else, Slytherins protect their own.”

Luna’s eyes welled up. Weasley seemed surprised, but quickly gathered herself. She didn’t look angry anymore. Her look was much harder to place. After a few seconds of staring Weasley held her hand out across the table. “Fine. I’ll believe you. If you shake on it.”

Draco looked down at her freckled, calloused hand and didn’t even hesitate to grab it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he couldn’t talk to Luna or help out Potter’s club anymore just because he’d messed up again with a Weasley.

Even though Weasley had asked for it, her eyes widened as he took her hand, but she remained resolute when she spoke. “Alright. I declare a truce. I won’t tell anyone that you’re friends with Luna as long as you’re good to her.”

“Deal.”

They shook once, then let go. Weasley smirked. “I never would have thought you’d care about someone else enough to shake hands with a  _ Weasley. _ We are blood traitors after all.”

Draco huffed. “The things I’ve done would shock you, Weasley. Shaking hands was nothing.”

Weasley gave him a hard look. “It wasn’t nothing. I don’t know what it  _ is _ yet, but I’ll find out.”

Draco and Weasley jolted apart when Luna scooted forward on her chair and squeaked when her ankle rolled. 

Weasley was quick to turn from Draco. “I’m sorry Luna! Let’s get you to the hospital wing. Oh Merlin you’re still covered in blood too…”

Since Draco couldn’t come with them to the hospital wing, he helped Weasley get Luna and their bags onto her back in a piggyback. Luna was a little taller, so it looked a bit awkward, but Weasley made no complaints about how heavy Luna must be.

Draco watched them head toward the library entrance and had to admit that he maybe felt a little respect for one Weasley. Just the one though.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Draco was in bed when he got a message from Luna in the journal.

  
  


**Thank you again for helping me today. I’m alright now, I just twisted my ankle. I didn’t mean for Ginny to find out anything, she was there studying with me when I went to find a book on my own.**

  
  


_ I’m a bit unhappy it came out the way it did, but I’m not sorry I helped you. I’m glad you’re alright. _

  
  


Luna didn’t reply, merely started doodling some of her dirigible plums in the margins again.

Draco watched for a while. He was beginning to think he might stand a chance in getting at least some of what he wanted, if only for a moment.


	10. A Good Look At How He Treats His Inferiors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big finale of Draco's plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again big thanks to FerchKalvaNiibi for betaing for me!
> 
> I missed a week there because my internet was down I'm very sorry. I hope you enjoy this chapter though!

Hagrid had now been back at Hogwarts, according to Umbridge, for a week and a half already. Yet, still, Grubbly-Plank was teaching class again that Wednesday. 

Draco thought it was a bit suspicious, but more than anything he was just bored. They’d finished Bowtruckles and were now doing review. Grubbly-Plank was just going on about what to do if you found a sick unicorn while everyone sprawled out in the grass and pretended to take notes. 

After Draco’s detention in the forest his first year he’d looked up everything there was to know about unicorns, hoping to find some information on a creature that would kill one. He’d quit when the rumors about Potter’s end of the year adventure got out. He was as likely to find out about the Dark Lord through studying unicorns as he was finding out about werewolves by studying dementors. He couldn’t just forget everything he learned though. He knew all the steps to dealing with a sick unicorn.

Instead of paying attention to Grubbly-Plank he watched Pansy doodle badly in the corner of her parchment. Eventually he couldn’t take the boredom and elbowed her to get her attention. Pansy jerked, creating a globby black line of ink across her mostly empty parchment. She glared, but Draco ignored her, squinting down at her sparse page. “Why aren’t you taking more notes? I thought you liked unicorns?”

Pansy huffed in irritation. “I did like unicorns. But I was talking to Milli about them last night and she hates them, she told me-”

Pansy was cut off by a first year student thundering down the grass and right through the lounging class. Everyone stopped and turned to watch. It was only when they had made their way up to Grubbly-Plank that Draco realized with a lurch that it was a Slytherin student. 

Draco felt himself pale as the kid huffed out through red cheeks, obviously having run all the way down there. They tried to whisper to Grubbly-Plank, but it was no use. She clearly didn’t hold with such nonsense. “Draco Malfoy! You’ve been summoned to the headmaster’s office.”

Draco stood up on shaky legs, the whole class’s eyes now on him. He accidentally made eye contact with Potter where he was sitting next to Weasley and held back a flinch. If this was the meeting he thought it was and it didn’t go the way he planned, Draco and Potter could both be in a world of trouble, and Potter didn’t have a single clue.

“Take your bag, Mr. Malfoy. I doubt you’ll be back before class ends, your parents are here. You’ll have to get notes from a classmate.”

Draco reached down for his things with shaking hands, noticing Potter make a face and turn away from him at the mention of his parents to share a look with the Weasel.

Pansy grabbed his hand and squeezed just before he swung his bag over his shoulder, her face full of sympathy and unspoken support before she hid it back behind her own Slytherin mask.

Draco moved up the lawn at a swift walk, ignoring the first year who puffed along behind him. The walk felt like it took years and seconds at the same time, Draco’s heart pounding a rapid beat in his chest. When they got back to the castle Draco shooed the first year absent-mindedly, barely giving them enough time to tell him that the password was “exploding bon bon.”

He rode the moving staircase in a haze, trying to think of everything he needed to say and failing. He took a breath to steady himself before he gave a sharp knock on the door.

He was expecting someone to call him in, but instead the door flew open, and arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders before he could even get a clear view of who it was that opened the door. 

Draco was quick to recognize his mother’s perfume and blonde hair, wrapping his own arms around her in return. Draco felt his shoulders untense. His mother wasn’t one for physical signs of affection, a hug from her was rare and precious now, reminding him of when he was little and had fallen off his first broomstick, or had a nightmare.

She pulled away after a few seconds, leaving her hands on his shoulders so she could look at him. Draco was a bit surprised to find that they were about the same height now. Her mouth pursed and her whole body seemed tense, like she was holding back an unsightly deluge of emotion. Draco tried to smile at her and failed miserably. 

After a moment of sharing a look, Draco’s mother ushered him into the office with an arm around his shoulders. Draco was shocked to see just how many people were in the office. 

Draco had expected Dumbledore, sitting calmly behind his desk like nothing special was going on, and McGonagall and Uncle Severus hovering behind him like nothing so much as strained shadows, McGonagall with her tight expression and Uncle Severus with his arms crossed like steel bars.

Draco had hoped his father would come, but had feared that he might have just sent his mother and been done with it. Draco was happy to see him in all his finery, both hands folded over his snake-headed cane, displeasure written all over his face. 

As happy as he was to see his father, he was equally unhappy to see Umbridge in attendance too. She had commandeered a chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk, her legs crossed daintily under the chair she’d turned sideways to face everyone, a smile still crossing her face.

No, Draco hadn’t exactly expected his father and Umbridge, but he had thought them a possibility at least. He’d never, never, expected that the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge himself, would be standing next to his father by the fireplace casting nervous looks around. Nor had Draco expected him to bring an audience comprised of one of the older Weasleys whose name escaped him, taking notes with a self-inking quill. 

Draco tried to swallow subtly to wet his suddenly dry throat.

Draco was quick to whip his head around to pay attention to Dumbledore again when he stood to speak. “Have a seat, Draco. We have much to discuss.”

Dumbledore summoned a pair of overly plush armchairs and gestured for Draco and his mother to sit. Draco sat, but it felt more like being on trial with most everyone else standing and looking down on him, combined with the walls full of the portraits of the headmaster's past practically gawking at him. Only Umbridge was now on his eye-level and she used that to her favor, immediately meeting Draco’s eyes and smirking, obviously sure in her victory.

Dumbledore must have sensed what Draco was thinking. “In fact, everyone have a seat. There’s no point in being uncomfortable.”

He was quick to summon armchairs for everyone, making the wise decision to put the chairs next to who was meant to sit on them and not rearrange where everyone was in relation to the others, leaving Fudge, Weasley, and Draco’s father at the other end of the room from Dumbledore.

Draco’s mother was quick to perch on the edge of her chair next to Draco and leaned over immediately, paying no mind to the others in the room. She grabbed his right arm in a tight grip, her long nails digging in. “Is it true? You must show me, Draco.”

Draco turned from Umbridge to look at her. She had the same feeling about her as she did when they’d talked of his father being a Death Eater. He frowned and gently moved his arm to dislodge her. She was quick to remove her hand herself to give him room. Draco used his newly freed hand to rip the bandage off his left. 

At the sound of the rip the room went eerily quiet. Draco’s father and the Minister had been talking quietly but had cut off at the noise. Draco darted a look around at everyone and held his left hand up to show everyone. Uncle Severus’s potion had done wonders for the swelling and now it was finally starting to scar over. 

Everyone looked grim at the reveal. Fudge was sweating and Weasley writing at speed. His mother subtly dug her nails into his arm again. His father’s knuckles whitened where he gripped his cane. Only Umbridge stifled a giggle.

All eyes turned in her direction. 

“Really Dolores. This is hardly a laughing matter!” Draco was sure he’d never been happier to hear McGonagall.

Umbridge cleared her throat with a horrible  _ hem hem _ that made Draco grit his teeth. “I just find it funny that you would believe this…  _ child  _ over a highly qualified witch like myself. It’s obvious he’s lying.”

Draco’s father surged to his feet at the accusation, leaving Draco wide-eyed. “Are you calling my son,  _ my son,  _ a liar!?”

Umbridge simpered. “I’m merely saying, Mr. Malfoy, that my Black Quill  _ has _ gone missing from my office this last week. It’s awfully convenient that this accusation should arise  _ now. _ ”

Draco’s mouth fell open at her sheer gall to lie. 

Draco’s father snapped back. “It’s Lord Malfoy to you and I dare you to accuse my son of theft to my face again! Not only is this slander to the highest degree-”

Draco didn’t know what possessed him, but before he knew it he was spitting back at Umbridge himself. He was sure that he’d never hated anyone as he hated the woman in front of him. His voice was soft and intense and filled with more emotion than he’d ever dared speak with around these people.

“Are you suggesting that I broke into your office, stole one of your damnable quills and decided to, what?  _ Torture myself? _ ” Draco scoffed into the newly quiet room. “Why in Merlin’s name would I do  _ that? _ Because I like the feel of digging a sharp object into my hand over and over and  _ over again? _ Because I want to never forget that I’m not important? Hmm? Why would I do that? Because I hate you that much? I wonder. If that’s your bet I wonder what you think you’ve done to warrant that much hatred.”

Draco was practically snarling by the end. 

She was right in a way. He did get himself tortured on purpose. He did hate her. 

The now familiar image of Potter on the floor clutching his own hand sprang to life behind his eyes and he hoped Umbridge was thinking of Potter as well. Hoped Dumbledore and Uncle Severus could see it.

Whatever Umbridge saw in Draco’s eyes was enough to make her smile dwindle.

“Enough.” Dumbledore’s quiet voice resonated through the room before anyone else could do more than open their mouths. “This is easy enough to verify. Minister, how many Black Quills is Professor Umbridge authorized to have?”

Fudge grimaced at being directly addressed, but was at least compliant enough to answer. “Due to the nature of the object, all owners need to have them registered and each person is only allowed one at a time. Even Dolores had to destroy her prototypes in order to get it patented. But really, Albus, even if you searched Mr. Malfoy’s things, he very well could have moved it.”

Draco’s father turned his glare on Fudge to which Fudge glanced away, his fingers clutching tighter to his bowler hat.

Dumbledore once again cut Draco’s father off before he could do more than open his mouth. “I do not mean to search Draco’s belongings. I mean to use a house elf to see if Dolores has her Quill.”

Both Umbridge and Fudge blanched at that, but Dumbledore was already summoning a house elf. “Rootie.”

They were quick to appear in the middle of the room, looking like any other Hogwarts elf, dressed in a clean tea towel with the Hogwarts crest. This one appeared standing tall, probably proud to be summoned by the headmaster himself, only to shrink in on itself at seeing all the people in the room. 

Dumbledore gently cleared his throat to get their attention. “Rootie. I’d like you to go into Professor Umbridge’s office and see if you can find any of these.” 

Dumbledore opened a desk drawer and pulled out his own Black Quill. 

Fudge was quick to bluster. “See here! You can’t have one of those!”

Dumbledore sighed. “I believe you’ll find, Minister, that I can -- I have had one registered to my name for about five years now.”

Fudge was not cowed by this. “If you let that house elf touch that Quill I’ll have you in Azkaban! Elves are not allowed to touch controlled objects!”

At this the elf shrunk in on themselves even more. 

Dumbledore seemingly ignored Fudge and turned to the elf. “Come get a close look so you know what you’re looking for, but do not touch, for both our sakes. You must tell us the truth about what you find Rootie. It’s imperative.”

Rootie inched up to the Quill, but was careful to stay out of arm's reach. At Dumbledore’s order they gave a decisive nod and vanished, off to Umbridge’s office.

Several conversations sprouted up all around the office. Draco paid them no mind. He couldn’t help thinking to himself that Dumbledore was acting awfully calm in the face of a student getting tortured. He couldn’t help but think that it was because the student was him. If it was someone like Longbottom, one of the few other students Draco believed could manage to get Umbridge fired with the weight of his pureblooded grandmother behind him, then he imagined Dumbledore wouldn’t be so calm. 

His godfather was shooting him looks from over Dumbledore’s shoulder. Draco didn’t want to think of him at a time like this, keeping secrets for Dumbledore when he needed to help Draco. How often did Draco ask him for favors really? He was playing everyone for a fool whatever he was doing. Draco was sure his father thought Uncle Severus a Death Eater.

Draco was saved from his spiraling thoughts when the  _ crack _ of the house elf coming back broke through every conversation. 

The elf apparated right in front of the Headmaster, who rose again to speak with them. “Well? Tell us the truth now Rootie, does Professor Umbridge have a Black Quill in her office?” 

The elf was brave enough to meet the Headmaster’s eye’s, and then to turn and address the rest of the room. “Yes, Headmaster. She had one right in her desk drawer.”

Everyone was quiet for a minute to see if the elf would start punishing themselves for the lie. When they just stood there, wringing their hands, all eyes shifted to Umbridge. 

Draco’s father looked apoplectic with rage as the truth became clear, and even the Weasley looked up from his frantic notes to look around with wide eyes. Draco was sure he was the only one who saw Weasley. He’d heard rumors that this Weasley, Peter or whatever he was called, had left his family to side with the Ministry. Draco found it hard to believe seeing his panicked gaze sweep the room, fear clear in his eyes. They met Draco’s for a minute and Draco nodded almost imperceptibly. He should fear what this woman does. He looked away after a second, shakily gathering himself to take notes again.

Umbridge had finally started taking things seriously and sneered. Dumbledore remained standing to address her. “Well, Dolores? Do you have anything to say for yourself?

Umbridge gave a short, sharp, offended sounding laugh. “Fine. You caught me. I did use my Black Quill on this boy. But he deserved it!”

Fudge cut in, in a profoundly weary sounding voice, clearly seeing that this wasn’t going to end well for him. “What on earth could Mr. Malfoy have done to deserve it? His father is a good, upstanding Ministry supporter, and by all accounts Mr. Malfoy has followed in his footsteps?”

Umbridge laughed again like she was swallowing her tongue. “He burst into my office, throws himself across my chair, and declares, if you please, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned! What else could I do but punish him appropriately? He has no respect for his betters and no sense of when to hold his tongue!”

Draco’s whole body tensed up, his mother’s nails pressing deeper into his arm. 

Draco’s father could clearly take no more and was on his feet in a flash. “Lies! All you say is a lie! My son has better sense than that!”

Umbridge burst to her feet herself now, spitting mad. “I am NOT lying!” Her finger whipped in Draco’s direction so fast he almost flinched. “That… boy is an abomination! He hides behind his family’s robes and thinks he’s invincible! Without the proper discipline he’ll become a monster by the time he graduates!”

Draco knew it was Umbridge saying it, but the words felt like a slap to his face. All his worst fears laid bare before him. His hands started to shake against his will. His mother obviously felt it and moved to squeeze his hand. He didn’t dare glance in her direction.

Somehow, unbearably, Dumbledore was still calm when he spoke. “That is quite enough. The fact remains that you tortured a student. I do not care what they did. I do not care who you are, or who you think you are. As Headmaster I am banishing you from the castle grounds.” Dumbledore turned from Umbridge to Fudge without waiting for a response. “Are you going to fight me about this, Minister?” 

Fudge had donned his bowler hat again, and grimaced in Dumbledore’s direction, then toward Umbridge, and Draco’s parents before throwing his hands in the air. “I can hardly argue the point here! What Dolores has done is not only in bad form, but also highly illegal. It goes beyond this nonsense about You-Know-Who.”

Umbridge made a shriek like a toad being trampled that was cut off quite abruptly by a deep voice saying “ _ Silencio. Incarcerous.” _

Draco whipped his head back over to the fireplace where only Weasley had remained, to see that he was now joined by a tall, black Auror with a gold earring. He seemed completely unperturbed about anything he was seeing or hearing. Draco was more confused about when he’d gotten there. Clearly Weasley had called for him.

Umbridge landed on her back on the floor. Fudge addressed her. “You are hereby charged with the torture of a student under your care. You are stripped of your title as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, you are stripped of your professorship, you are banned entirely from the Hogwarts grounds and subsequently all magical school grounds. You are fired from the Ministry of Magic. You are banned from working with underage children in any capacity. You are to stay under house arrest until your proper sentencing trial.” Fudge turned to the Auror. “Does that about cover it Shacklebolt? Don’t want to leave anything out.”

Dumbledore interrupted. “I would like her office officially searched by Aurors. Just because Mr. Malfoy is the only one who came forward does not mean that he is the only student she injured.”

Fudge tutted but nodded to Shacklebolt. “Very well. Shacklebolt, you can arrange for that on our return to the Ministry.” It wasn’t until Shacklebolt had agreed and levitated Umbridge into the floo with him that Fudge turned to address Dumbledore directly. “Just because it turned out that Umbridge was a bad sort, doesn’t change the law. If you can’t find a new Defense profesor by the end of the winter holidays I’ll be picking another. Be glad I’m giving you that long. I have no doubt in my mind that you’ve got something to do with how this turned out.”

It was only now that Draco saw Dumbledore’s eyes go cold. “If you are accusing me of facilitating the injury and torture of my students, then you better have substantial evidence Minister. The last thing I want is harm to befall my students.”

“And yet!” Fudge exclaimed, but cut himself off from going further. “No, I don’t have proof. Not this time, anyway. But keep in mind, Headmaster, that one teacher I picked being a bad sort is one thing, but  _ two _ can not be a coincidence. If this happens again I’ll put all of your staff under surveillance!”

“It seems, Minister, that they have been under surveillance, and as this is the first time we’ve spoken since term began, they have done nothing wrong.” Dumbledore’s stare was unwavering.

Fudge was already shaking his head and backing toward the fireplace like the coward he was. “Yet. Always yet. We both know they believe your stories, they can’t possibly be headed anywhere good.” Fudge gestured for Weasley to follow him through the fire. “Come Weaselby, I hope you took detailed notes, you’ll need to be at the sentencing.”

And then he and Weasley were gone and there was quiet for a moment as the remaining occupants of the room stared after them. 

Draco’s father didn’t wait long before marching up to Draco and grabbing his injured hand out of his lap. Draco was surprised to feel that his father’s hand was trembling just slightly. Draco looked from his hand up to his father’s face. He could almost see, or maybe he only thought he saw, some worry buried under the anger. His father met his eyes and dropped his hand just as fast as he’d picked it up. 

“You did the right thing, telling your mother and I. Don’t let something like this happen again.” His father sneered. “You were strong to withstand that,  _ woman _ , but Malfoys are not victims. Do you hear me, Draco?”

Draco’s hands stopped shaking. He felt something like pride for the first time in a while. “Of course father. Malfoys are not victims.”

For just a second the corner of his father’s mouth quirked up in a semblance to a smile. “That’s right. I’m sure you will have no trouble with anyone else the Minister chooses.”

Draco’s father turned and offered his hand to help his mother up. She accepted and stood, Draco quick to follow after. “Are you leaving then?”

It was only after the words left his mouth that Draco realized how needy they sounded. But it felt good to see his parents again. To see them on his side for once, instead of him fighting himself to be on their side like he had all summer. 

His father raised an eyebrow at him imperiously, but his mother laid a hand on his shoulder. “We must be off Draco, dear. I’m sure you can handle things from here?”

Draco nodded his head decisively, but didn’t say a word. 

Draco’s mother glanced around anxiously before muttering a quick, “I’m proud of you.” 

Draco’s father practically rolled his eyes when he heard. “We’ll see him in a month for the holidays.”

Draco and his mother both ignored his father. 

Draco took the initiative for once and took a step forward to wrap his arms around his mother again. It shouldn’t have felt like a big deal, but it felt as big a step as when he had hugged Luna first the other night. He half felt like she might have pushed him away, with his father right there to tell them how un-pureblooded all the hugging was, or with Dumbledore within eyesight to exploit their weaknesses. 

She just took a startled breath in and hugged him back. Draco squeezed his eyes closed as hard as he could. Was this always what success felt like? Like a huge weight fallen from his shoulders and his parents being proud of him?

When Draco pulled back he caught his father eyeing his left hand again and raised an eyebrow at him. He promptly straightened up and nodded. Then he took Draco’s mother’s arm and escorted her into the fireplace. 

They both gave parting nods to the Headmaster and were gone. Draco was sure this was the first time they’d ever been civil to Dumbledore.

Draco watched the fireplace until the last of the green flames flickered out, before turning to face his teachers. He somehow just knew this whole incident wasn’t over for him. Dumbledore fell back into his seat and laced his fingers together in front of his face, peering at Draco over them. 

Draco walked back up to the area around Dumbledore’s desk, but he didn’t meet Dumbledore’s eyes, focusing more on an uncomfortable looking Severus Snape. It was as Uncle Severus shifted just slightly that everything that just happened came together for Draco. “It was you. You told Dumbledore already what happened.” Severus nodded shortly and Draco turned a glare on Dumbledore. “You stole her Quill. That’s why she came in already thinking she’d won.”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “I could not risk the chance that she would use her Quill on another student in the time it took your parents to respond to your letter.”

Draco half wanted to hit something, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “How did you do it? How did you make it so that elf didn’t need to punish themselves? How did you know they’d believe me with the missing evidence?”

Dumbledore gave a half-smile that only mde Draco more angry. “Why, it was simple. I had the one elf I could never call upon in the presence of the Malfoys, Dobby, take the Black Quill shortly after Severus informed me of what had happened. I copied the Quill and had Dobby take it back. She must have noticed it no longer worked as it should and threw it away, using that to concoct her defence. Little did she know that it was enchanted to duplicate itself again and appear in her drawer. Meanwhile, I simply showed Rootie the original Black Quill and when he found it in her drawer it was a Quill that looked the exact same. I will of course have Dobby put it back now that Umbridge is gone so that it can be entered as evidence in her sentencing.”

Draco had to close his eyes for a second to calm down, closing his walls around him. “You gambled with the whole situation. If one thing, ONE, went wrong the Minister of Magic himself would have thought I was both deranged and a thief!”

When Draco opened his eyes he was hoping at least Severus would look repentant about the whole thing. He was disappointed. In fact, Dumbledore’s eyes were glittering more than ever under his desk lamps. “Ah, but Mr. Malfoy, wasn’t your aim to protect other students from getting hurt? What might you have felt if she managed to torture another student while your parents deciphered your letter?”

Draco could feel himself pale at the implication. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You make it sound like -- like I --”

“Like you got yourself put in detention on purpose to protect someone? Or multiple someones? Yes.” McGonagall actually let out a gasp at Dumbledore’s words. “Do you really think that we’d believe that you were so careless as to mention Voldemort’s return to Umbridge by accident?”

Draco grimaced. “I won’t admit to anything.”

McGonagall stood. “But you must tell us who this other student is!” She glanced between Dumbledore and Draco, pleadingly. “We can’t just let a student wander around Hogwarts who’s been tortured!”

Draco glared at her and lost a fight with his tongue. “Why? You have before.”

“Mr. Malfoy! Now see here!” McGonagall had a hand over her heart and Draco idly wondered if this is what would actually give her a heart attack. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “There is no need to cast blame in this kind of situation. It is more important that we work together to remedy it.”

Draco made the mistake of turning to meet Dumbledore’s eyes, an angry retort in his mouth, when he was stopped by the feel of Legilimency. His first thought was to erect his walls as hard and fast as he could, but his second was that he’d never keep Dumbledore out anyway. 

So instead of covering everything, he pushed images to the front. 

_ A young 11 year old Potter walking into the Great Hall for the closing ceremony, his head and hands wrapped in bandages. No one can stop whispering. _

_ Draco and Potter sniping at each other as they walk by lantern light through the pitch black Forbidden Forest, a dead unicorn bleeding under a tree, a dark shape emerging from the blackness, a mad dash away, Potter falling and Draco too scared to turn back, practically crying as he ran. _

_ A glance around a staircase at 12 year old Weasley and Potter covered in slime and blood, Potter carrying a sword. Draco knows his father is going to be there soon. _

_ The end of year feast in second year, all the petrified students running in. All Draco could see was the difference to the chalky frozen skin and blood on the walls. Drinking deep from his pumpkin juice so no one near him could tell that he was relieved. _

_ Darkness and confusion and screaming on the train third year. Were those the Weasley twins in the mad scramble? He wasn’t clinging, he didn’t like Weasleys, but, Merlin, they sure felt like safety.  _

_ Potter drenched and angry and pale and Draco laughing because of course Potter fainted! He actually fainted! Who does- _

_ Potter plummeting from his broom in a storm as hundreds of dementors gather and even Draco feels he’ll lose his soul. Maybe out of his mouth as he screams and Potter falls and falls… _

_ Draco’s boggart grows and grows, teeth and fangs and… Lupin gives a yelp as it fully emerges. The other pureblood Slytherins are quiet behind him. _

_ Excruciating pain like Draco’s never really known until then. His vision rushes in blobs and blurs around him as it feels like all the little bones in his tiny body break against the floor and ceiling.  _

_ Potter’s long walk up to the goblet of fire. Quiet and eerie and Draco can’t help but notice how lonely it seems compared to the other champions. _

_ The tasks. Fire and flying, and swimming and waiting, and a maze. _

_ Potter lying over a still Diggory, bloody and screaming. The cheers turn to quiet. Draco stares and stares as Potter falls apart. As Mr. Diggory falls apart. Pansy pulls him so he doesn’t start falling apart. _

_ Blood sliding off Potter’s hand onto the cold stone floor with a splash. Draco holding Potter’s hand and pleading, Potter yelling. Draco leaving. _

“You’d rather get tortured every week than admit to an adult that you need help?! Even if it could mean helping with the war?!”

_ Crabbe turning to Draco with a smile before Draco holds him at wand point. Draco marching down to Umbridge’s office. Writing and writing and ‘ _ I am not important’.  _ Luna offering him a handkerchief and a hug. Blaise and Pansy sprawled across each other on Draco’s bed. Blaise leaving. Pansy across a table. _

_ That’s enough. _

That’s enough.

Draco’s not sure how he’s done it, but he pushed and pushed until Dumbledore left and now they’re looking at each other over a desk again. Draco, angry and panting, and even Dumbledore looked like he was sweating. Severus shooting Draco a raised eyebrow and McGonagall looking slightly bewildered.

Draco ignored them to continue saying what he meant to say, his lip curling with disgust. “Maybe if you could keep track of your Gryffindors we wouldn’t need to keep remedying anything.”

Draco shoots a withering look at McGonagall as he turns sharply to leave. He’s mildly pleased when no one stops him. 

He does hear Severus addressing Dumbledore as he leaves. “What on earth was that all about?”

He just heard Dumbledore sigh as the stairs started descending. “A reminder. And a recrimination.” 


	11. Anything's Possible If You've Got Enough Nerve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hagrid's back and we find out what Draco wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to FerchKalvaNiibi for betaing!
> 
> Harry's back!

Draco had to go straight from Dumbledore’s office to dinner. He desperately wanted to skip, but he didn’t want to do anything that would make him look suspicious. It was bad enough he got pulled out of Care of Magical Creatures early. 

As he walked past the other tables to get to the Slytherin table, he could already hear whispers about the missing teachers and the news that there was a Ministry Official spotted roaming the hallways. Draco did his best to ignore it and sat by Pansy to eat. 

Pansy turned to give him a pointed look, he gave a nod, and she nodded back with a small smile.

Only then did Draco take a deep breath and smile himself. Umbridge was finally gone.

  
  


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Dumbledore took it upon himself to make a general announcement the next night at dinner. Draco supposed he had little choice, given that Umbridge’s office was roped off like a crime scene with rope that started screaming when you touched it and the Defence classroom had a sign that said class was canceled until further notice.

Draco was glad to hear Dumbledore pass over most of the details. His speech boiled down to saying that Umbridge was under investigation for causing harm to a student and that classes were canceled until after the holidays. That anyone with more information should come forward and that there might be Aurors in the hallways.

Draco spotted Potter staring at him with wide-eyed disbelief from across the Great Hall and went to scowl back, before he thought better of it and gave a very careful and deliberate wink. For some reason Potter went red all the way up to his scar and glared back. Draco raised one eyebrow and Potter turned to scowl back at his plate.

Draco shrugged to himself before going back to his own food.

  
  


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That night he was cornered in the common room by none other than Crabbe and Goyle. They stood just in front of him when he went to get up from his favorite chair by the fire and stared at him.

Draco leaned away from them and glared. 

Crabbe gave an audible gulp and Goyle hit him in the arm, probably to hurry him along. “We- We just wanted to say we were sorry Draco.”

Goyle nodded in agreement. “Real sorry. We didn’t know Umbridge was doing anything wrong.”

Draco scoffed. “It’s not your job to know these things, it’s your job to do as I say. Or at the very least tell me your stupid plans before you do them.”

Both boys flinched and Draco sighed. “I was working on a longer term plan to expose her before she hurt any Slytherins, but I had to expedite things and jeopardize my plan because you two couldn’t mind your own business.”

Goyle practically mumbled his reply. “We promise we won’t do anything behind your back anymore, can we please hang out with you again?”

Draco looked at them and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair in thought. Did he want to spend time with these backstabbing morons again? No. Absolutely not. Every time he looked at them he was reminded of how angry he was when he found out what they’d done, how they’d almost cost him all of the fragile things he’d been working on since the year started. But he couldn’t deny that a repentant Crabbe and Goyle might be a good way to hide the new activities he planned to indulge in. On top of that it was much harder to throw his weight around without the two of them behind him to back him up.

Draco looked up from his hand to find the two giving each other panicked looks and cleared his throat as if he were making an official announcement. “Fine. You can hang around me again, but only on a probationary period. I don’t trust you anymore so you need to prove you can listen to me.”

Crabbe opened his mouth, “How long-”

Goyle elbowed him and spoke over the end of his sentence. “Thank you so much Draco. I swear we’ll earn your trust back.”

Draco gave a decisive nod. “See that you do. Now bring me your homework, I’m sure it’s abysmal.”

  
  


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For the rest of that week Draco went about business as usual. Potter and the Weasley twins were reinstated onto the Quidditch team. It made Draco smile into his parchment when he 

thought about Potter flying again, and also made it easier for Slytherins to acquire Weasley products, since they’d stopped selling to Slytherins during their banishment from the team. Blaise still wasn’t talking directly to him, and Pansy avoided both of their drama by spending time with Milli. Crabbe and Goyle were hideously behind in their studies and so Draco spent a good deal of that week helping them make up for the previous one.

There was another of Potter’s club meetings, which had Draco standing outside the door for the first time in a while. It was good to see Luna again in person after the trouble he’d found her in last time. He wanted to tell her what he was planning, sure that she would help, but couldn’t get himself to mention it. Half because he was scared that she’d think it a bad idea, and half scared she’d think it a good one.

Every time he caught Potter’s eye now he was careful to smirk or wink. Anything to fluster him while he figured out the perfect timing. 

In the end the perfect timing was more thrust in his face than chosen. 

Hagrid had returned to the staff table that Monday night, and sure enough, he was there to give his first lesson of the year the next day. He was standing right outside his hut to greet the class, a large hunk of raw meat dangling over his shoulder. 

Draco took one look at him and turned to Pansy. “Do you see his face? What has he been up to?”

Pansy smiled but hissed at him. “Nothing we want to know if we’re to stay out of things, I’m assuming.”

The sounds of Crabbe and Goyle huffing to catch up to them in the snow made Draco shut his mouth and glare at nothing, point taken.

Hagrid waited until the class had all approached before jerking his head toward the forest just past his hut. “We’re workin’ in here today! Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark…”

Draco stared into the trees for a second even as the class began to move without him. He could easily remember the last time he’d gone into those trees. A flash of glinting unicorn blood passed behind his eyes. He desperately wanted to ask exactly what creature they were going to be learning about, but he bit his tongue, as he knew anything he said to Hagrid would come off as antagonistic right when he didn’t want to.

Soon even Crabbe and Goyle had moved in front of him. Draco shook himself out of whatever state he’d been in and looked around. His eyes quickly met Potter’s. Draco couldn’t bring himself to taunt him, or even glare like before, and soon Potter’s look melted into realization and then challenge as he nodded toward the forest. It made Draco realize that Potter was the only other one in the whole world who was also there in the woods to see what they saw in first year. He knew it scared him. Well, he would show Potter. 

Draco marched proudly ahead of Potter toward the rest of the class, spotting Weasley and Granger giving Potter worried looks from the edge of the trees. 

He quickly caught up and joined his own little knot of Slytherins. Goyle ‘gently’ elbowed him to get his attention. Draco glared but raised an inquiring eyebrow. “You alright?”

Draco just sniffed and turned away. Clearly he was alright. Why wouldn’t he be?

Hagrid waited until even Potter had caught back up before addressing the class again. “Ready? Right, well, I’ve been savin’ a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we’d go an’ see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we’re studyin’ today is pretty rare, I reckon I’m probably the on’y person in Britain who’s managed ter train ‘em.”

Draco’s mind raced as he tried to think of what animal Hogwarts was known to have trained that nowhere else had as Hagrid then proceeded to lead them deeper into the actual forest. It was a good distraction from both the memories that wanted to push in on him, and the fact that Potter kept looking over at him. Draco far too deeply wanted it to be because he was worried and checking on him, and thus he could not think about it.

Draco was so busy not thinking about the things he wasn’t thinking about and plowing his mind for what this creature could be, that he missed everything Hagrid said when they stopped and almost jumped out of his skin when he started howling. Thankfully only Pansy noticed and she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze as Hagrid howled again. 

After Hagrid’s third howl Draco saw Potter pointing something out to Weasley and was quick to follow Potter’s finger. Draco looked as hard as he could, but saw nothing. Looking back at Potter, he was clearly looking at something while Weasley made a fool of himself by trying to look everywhere it once. That’s when it came to him what the creature was. 

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Now he remembered that Hogwarts had the only herd classified as domesticated in all of Britain. He even knew that Luna had gotten special permission from Hagrid to come visit the herd occasionally, but he knew that he’d never get permission after all he’d done to Hagrid and hadn’t been around them beyond the carriages. 

He was so excited he lost control of his tongue. “Thestrals!”

Absolutely every eye in the class turned to him. His grin quickly faded under the stares and he turned to glaring. “Well? That’s what they are isn’t it? Thestrals.”

Hagrid’s face had frozen in confusion and he didn’t seem to know what to do with Draco now that he was actively participating in class. “Er… Tha’s right. Ten points ter Slytherin, I guess. See ‘em then, Malfoy?”

“No. Not that that’s any of your business.” Draco was careful to give his best sneer.

Hagrid took it as the sign to move on that it was and Draco was free to relax a bit. He couldn’t believe he’d done that. His fellow Slytherins would start accusing him of sympathizing with half-breeds any second. He was lucky that the only Slytherin in this class that was out of his control was Nott. 

“Alrigh’ put yer hands up if you CAN see ‘em.” Hagrid addressed the class and Draco saw Potter’s hand shoot up as if it were a race. Hagrid turned toward him first. “Yeah… yeah, I knew you’d be able ter, Harry.” To his benefit he seemed to at least have the proper respect for what that even meant. Seeing Potter raise his hand must have encouraged Longbottom to raise his as well because his hand wasn’t far behind. Hagrid addressed him personally as well. “An’ you too, Neville, eh?” 

Then Hagrid looked off behind Draco and he turned to see who he was looking at, only to come face-to-face with a disgusted looking Nott with his hand raised. “An’ er… ?”

Nott sneered at Draco when he saw him looking and then sneered at Hagrid as he replied. “Theodore Nott.”

Draco could tell that Nott was going to make a snarky remark as Hagrid fumbled briefly over giving him the same treatment as Potter and Longbottom, but he didn’t get the chance as they were both cut off by a shrieking Patil. “It touched me! Am I cursed?! Thestrals are supposed to be unlucky!”

Draco couldn’t help but snap at the annoying wench. “They aren’t dangerous, you idiot! Their abilities are just misunderstood!”

The whole class was looking at him again, even now with the competition of invisible beasts taking chunks out of half a cow. But Draco’s attention was stolen by Nott giving a sharp laugh. “Taken a liking to the misfits, have you Malfoy? First Zabini, now these… Things.”

Draco almost couldn’t believe it. It was against Slytherin house policy to have fights in front of other houses. They were meant to stand united against the other houses who tended to have it out for them, especially Gryffindors. He had no idea how this would affect interhouse politics now, but he knew he couldn’t let it stand no matter what or his situation might become precarious. 

Draco was quick to swing towards Nott and get in his space, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle moving as one with him. He hissed out a “What did you just say Nott?” with the hopes that he would back down and they could end this travesty without too much damage. 

Nott didn’t back down, he took a step closer, not even sparing a glance for Crabbe and Goyle. “I’m saying I should have known you were all talk back when you got your girlfriend to stand up for that half-blood trash Bulstrode years ago. You’ve gone too far with Zabini and you’ll pay for it. And where is he when you need him? Hmm? Where is your little pet faggot now huh?”

Draco saw red. At the word, at Nott poking fun at Blaise leaving him, at the way he talked about Pansy and Milli both, at Nott even daring to do this, to do this HERE. It didn’t matter. The next thing he knew his wand was out and digging into Nott’s throat hard enough to bruise. 

Unlike when he’d had Crabbe under similar circumstances, Theo smiled at him. “Do it. I want you to do it. The worse the better. What would your daddy say then? Hurting ME of all people?” 

Draco felt like screaming. He was half a second from doing it anyway when he saw a movement to his right and suddenly Goyle was there punching Nott in the jaw. It was so hard Draco could hear a crack from where he was standing and Nott went careening to Draco’s left, Draco’s wand taking skin as he slid out from under it. He hit the dirt with a screech. 

“Fifty points from Slytherin!” Hagrid had found his footing apparently as he marched angrily toward the commotion. Nott scrambled to his feet as Hagrid got closer as if to ward him off. “Nott! I won’ tolerate any fightin’ in my class! Detention! A week’s worth I’d say! Now go get ter the hospital wing! I don’ wanna see yer face the rest o’ the lesson!”

Nott scowled and spit a wad of blood out at Hagrid’s feet, but fled off toward the castle. Hagrid glared back, watching him leave the forest before turning to Goyle. “Detention fer you too. Yeh can’ go punchin’ people.”

Goyle merely nodded and whipped his knuckles on his robes as if they were covered in filth. They’d probably bruise later, Draco would have to remember to give him something for that. 

Hagrid turned towards him next and Draco was ready to take it, any punishment that came, rage still pulsing through his veins as he met Hagrid’s beetle black eyes. 

But even as he stared he could feel the rage leaking out of him. His eyes watering in frustration. He remembered how when he got injured Hagrid carried him screaming all the way up to the hospital wing himself, even after all that he’d done to Hagrid personally. He wondered if it meant something that Hagrid let Nott run off by himself. 

Draco looked away toward the crowd of other students instead. Almost every single one of them looked shocked. Patil even had her hands up over her mouth. Several were giving him hard looks. Potter himself looked ready for a fight and Draco was quick to look away from him. His eyes dashed over to see Thomas looking astonished. When Draco met his eye his look turned assessing and he gave Draco a nod he hadn’t expected. 

Draco was pulled back by a hand on his wand arm. He looked over to see Pansy shaking her head at him, her hand near his wrist. He was clenching his wand so tightly his knuckles were white. He shakily pushed it back up his sleeve. 

“Well Malfoy. You seem ter know a lot abou’ Thestrals. Why can some o’ yeh see ‘em and some not?”

Draco took a deep breath. In and out. His voice still sounded a bit strained when he answered. “Only people who have seen death can see them.” He wanted to go on, adding some things he’d learned from his research with Luna about how you have to understand death as well, but he was deeply aware that this wasn’t the time. 

“Tha’s right.” Hagrid smiled and went back to the front of the class next to the hunk of meat that was already almost gone. “They aren’ unlucky, they’re dead clever an’ useful! ‘Course, this lot don’ get a lot o’ work, it’s mainly jus’ pullin’ the school carriages unless Dumbledore’s takin’ a long journey an’ don’ want ter Apparate. Once they’re tamed, like this lot, yeh’ll never be lost again. ‘Mazin’ senses o’ direction, jus’ tell ‘em where yeh want ter go an’ they'll get yeh there. Faster ’n the fastest broom on the market too!”

Hagrid started stroking the air on his left, clearly petting one of the animals. “We started off with a male an’ five females. This one, name o’ Tenebrus, he’s my special favorite, firs’ one born here in the forest. They prefer raw meat, but they’ll take wha’ they can get in the wild. If yeh want, you can feed ‘em an apple from tha’ sack over there. Give ‘em a pet. Slow like, they won’ hurt yeh, but they aren’ used to so much attention at once.”

Slowly the class got distracted, getting apples and holding them out in their hands until something unseen gave it a nibble. Draco got an apple like instructed, but crept away toward the edge of the clearing, leaving Pansy and Crabbe and Goyle to stay closer and feed the Thestrals. He heard Pansy shriek when the first one bit her apple, but she quickly fell into petting it. Draco wondered if she would if she knew what it looked like. He’d only seen sketches himself, but they seemed to be great big skeletal winged horses of some sort. 

Draco sat with his back against a tree and tossed the apple back and forth between his hands absently, eventually closing his eyes for a moment. Everything with Nott had been over in just a few minutes, but it seemed to be draining him. Now that Nott shoved it in his face he could no longer deny that he wanted Blaise back. He was sick of Blaise running away. Draco had tried not to be bothered by it while he was dealing with Umbridge, but now it felt like an abrasion against his skin everytime Blaise turned away from him. 

Goyle punching Nott was a good surprise, but would Goyle still have done it if he’d known he was protecting someone who not only supported homosexuals, but was gay himself? Nott’s feelings were backed by hundreds of years of pureblood homophobia. If Crabbe and Goyle hoped to follow in their father's footsteps and become Death Eaters as well, they might be better off abandoning him now. And Draco himself still had so many other issues to deal with on top of that. 

His apple seemingly stopped in midair, interrupting his thoughts. He opened his eyes to meet the glorious green of Potter’s own. His chest went tight at the unexpected sight of Potter’s smirking face and he only managed to scowl back on instinct. “What, Potter? Did you run away from your fan club?”

Potter’s smirk fell into a more serious look. He ignored Draco for the moment and moved to lean his own back against the tree, slowly sliding down until he was sitting next to him. “We all heard what Nott said to you.”

Draco snapped his head toward Potter. “I’m not talking about that.”

Potter met his look and narrowed his eyes. “But you will talk about something?”

Draco looked away to the clearing, then back to Potter. “Yeah, I will. Where the nearest Thestral is. You can see them with your stupid broken eyes. I want to feed one.”

Potter raised an eyebrow at him but nodded. “Fine. I’ll find you a Thestral if you talk after.”

Draco scowled but held his hand out for his apple back. Potter’s lips quirked up on the side like he was beginning to smile and Draco had to look away or he knew he’d blush. Potter set the apple in his hand, but he didn’t let go right away. Draco looked back at him and Potter met his eyes before quickly darting to look behind Draco. Draco turned his head to look and felt a soft puff of hot breath against his cheek. 

Potter whispered behind his ear. “Go really slowly, it’s just a baby. That’s why it was standing back on the edge of the clearing. It’s been watching you since you sat down.”

Potter slowly lifted his hand off the apple and Draco brought it around toward where the breath came from. Draco held it up for a few seconds, barely daring to move, before a small chunk was taken out of it. Draco watched avidly as more and more chunks were taken out until less than half remained. Then he gently raised his other hand and started feeling the air around the apple. 

Behind him, Potter snorted. “Here, you’re way off.” 

Draco whipped back toward Potter, but he’d already taken Draco’s free hand and moved it so it was less off to his side and more in front of the two of them. The Thestral felt cold and coarse and had large ridges where Draco imagined its bones were showing. That’s what he wanted to concentrate on, but Potter’s hand was hot on his and he’d moved closer to reach, making his breath hit the back of Draco’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“You’re petting his neck and back. His face is mostly mouth and eyes, probably best to avoid it when he’s eating.” Potter kept his voice down so as to not scare the baby Thestral and it made Draco feel like they were the only three in the whole world. 

The Thestral finished the apple then, and scratched Draco’s hand with what felt like a beak. Draco hissed through his teeth, but raised that hand to pet the Thestral as well. 

Potter took that as a sign and let go of Draco’s hand, putting a few more centimeters between them. Draco felt the loss, but at the same time, he did have a baby Thestral bumping its beak against his cheek. He couldn’t help but smile. 

“You really do like Thestrals, don’t you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that.” Potter spoke at almost a normal volume and Draco instantly dropped his smile and looked at him. 

“Yes. I really like Thestrals Potter.” Potter kept looking steadily at him and Draco felt compelled to elaborate. “I’ve been studying them as a personal project with someone. We’re thinking about writing a paper about it. We already think we’ve figured something out about them. It’s a hard subject to study when everyone’s scared of them though.”

Potter’s eyebrows scrunched together on his forehead just so, making his scar distort. “Who are you studying with? None of your usual friends seem like the type. Is it this Zabini person? Is that why Nott brought him up?”

Now Draco glared at him. “I told you I wasn’t going to talk about it. It’s none of your business.”

The Thestral half turned under Draco’s hands and he turned with it, only to see Hagrid approaching them, a suspicious look on his bruised face. “Everythin’ alrigh’? S’ time ter head back ter the castle.”

Potter looked up at him, but made no further move to get up. “Everything’s fine Hagrid. We managed to feed a foal. Would you mind if we stayed a little longer?”

Hagrid looked between the two of them. “Er. I guess not. I got ter walk the rest o’ the class back. Will yeh be okay by yerselves?”

Potter nodded and smiled reassuringly. Draco gave a terse nod as well. 

Hagrid nodded back. “Fine then. Jus’ don’ be late fer yer next class. I’ll be in me garden if yeh need me.”

Both Draco and Potter watched the rest of the class troop off in silence. Without the rest of the class the clearing felt eerily quiet all of a sudden. Draco whispered into the silence, “What are the Thestrals doing now?”

Potter was suddenly equally as quiet. “Most of them are wandering back into the woods. A couple are coming over here. Probably to check on the foal.”

Draco slowly let his hands fall away from the Thestral. It bumped its head against his shoulder a few times affectionately in response. 

Potter waited until his hands were lowered all the way before asking his question. “It was you wasn’t it? That reported Umbridge.”

Draco stared out at the seemingly empty clearing, glad he wasn’t headed toward History of Magic, but wondering what it was he WAS doing. “Yes.”

“You told Dumbledore what she did to me?” Potter’s voice sounded bitter.

Draco snapped around to look at him. “What she did to  _ you?  _ Of course not, I can take a bloody hint!”

Potter flinched back in surprise. “What the hell did you do to get rid of her then?”

Draco laughed a loud bark of laughter. “I did exactly what I told you to do.”

Draco ripped the bandage he had taken to wearing on the back of his left hand off and held it out to Potter without looking at it himself. 

Potter let out a hiss of breath. “You let her do it to you so you could report her yourself.” 

Suddenly Draco wanted to be anywhere but there. He didn’t want this thrown back in his face. He hurried to stand up, ashamed when he knocked the foal’s beak away from his shoulder. Potter was quick to follow him, grabbing his arm and making him turn back toward him. 

“Don’t leave! Why are you always a bloody coward!” Potter had gone from whispering to shouting. 

Draco got right back in his face. “I’m not a coward! I did what I needed to do! No thanks to you!”

Potter reached out and grabbed Draco’s other arm as well, trapping him. “Why?! Why would you help me when I get injured, why would you tell me Umbridge is watching the castle communications?! Why would you get yourself tortured just to get rid of her, when she wasn’t hurting you or your house?!”

Draco had so many words. So many reasons. But he didn’t know where to start and the words all faded away when he looked at Harry. Draco watched as the anger faded out of Potter the longer they looked at each other until Potter just looked confused. He was no longer shouting when he spoke. “Why, Malfoy? You hate me. It doesn’t make sense.”

Draco’s throat was dry. “I know about your defence group. I want to join. That’s how you can repay me for Umbridge.”

Draco watched Potter’s eye widen, his mouth opening and closing more than once before he got any words out. “You...know? You…. but…. Why? How?”

Draco darted his eyes away, not wanting to look at Potter anymore. “That friend that I’m studying Thestrals with is a part of your group. They invited me. I told them there was no way I could join, but I’ve been doing stupid things like watching your door and threatening Finnigan to join since I found out.” 

Draco closed his eyes for a second before turning back to Potter. He needed to look at him for this next bit. “I threatened Edgecombe to leave. Told her that our fathers were both watching her. But I had to use my friends to help me intimidate her in the end. Crabbe and Goyle heard a little too much and felt a little too free. They’re the ones that told Umbridge you were running a group in the first place.”

Potter’s response was quiet. “They what?”

Draco nodded. “That’s why I got rid of Umbridge. She was a threat. A bigger threat than she was before I meddled. I needed to take her out before you lost the whole club because of a careless mistake I made. Now I want in. I’ve spent too long protecting a group I’m not even a part of.”

“Protecting your friend.” Potter’s face went from shock back to suspicion faster than Draco could blink. “If you have a friend who’s a member then you know we’re training to fight Voldemort. Why would you want to join? To spy? Your father is a Death Eater. We’re your enemies.”

Potter finally took a step back and let go of Draco. Draco tried not to let it bother him. 

Potter glared and Draco met his gaze. He carefully let all his walls down, to let Potter see the truth in what he said, how tired he was, how much stress he was under. “I don’t know what side I’m on Potter. But I’m not a Death Eater yet. I just want a chance to choose. Please.”

It was all out. Everything was on the table. This is what he wanted, the prize Pansy said to chase. But it wouldn’t matter how he chased it unless Potter was willing to bend just a little. 

Potter’s expression seemed to melt against his will. 

Draco pressed his advantage. “I know Granger has a cursed parchment. I’ll sign whatever I need to sign, promise whatever I need to promise. I already know everything, this would be like protecting yourself. And I’d be there to help you train. I have insight into how the Death Eaters work.”

Potter closed his eyes as he fought himself, but when he opened them he seemed sure of his decision. “Fine. As far as I’m concerned you can join. But I’m not the only member of this club. I won’t lose other members to keep you in. We have a meeting tomorrow night.”

Draco let a half-smile cross his face and nodded. “I’ll be there, Potter.”

  
  
  
  



	12. If Our Aims Are Identical and Our Hearts Are Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's first DA meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this out as a little present for you guys for the end of the year, but my Computer decided to break for a while. This chapter was really hard to write to, far too many ways this could have turned, you know? I changed huge chunks over and over. Anyway, I hope you like it! It turned out a little longer than usual!
> 
> Big thanks to my beta! FerchKalvaNiibi

If Draco had been less in his own head since CoMC he would have been expecting the note he got at dinner that night from Severus. He would have noticed that only Crabbe and Goyle sat anywhere near him, the rest of Slytherin giving him a wide berth in the wake of the recent confrontation, Blaise shooting him looks from where he sat alone at the other end of the table.

As it was, Draco jerked out of his thoughts when the note landed in front of him, and he was unrolling it before he thought to check it for curses. When he saw it was from Severus, he scowled and crumpled it up, but found himself hurrying down to his office once he’d finished eating anyway. 

Draco had been expecting Severus to start berating him for fighting with Nott in public the second he sat down, but instead Severus just stared at him from over his hands as the silence stretched on. 

It was Draco who cracked first. “Well? What did you want to speak to me about?”

As if he didn’t know.

Severus dropped his hands. “As if you don’t know what’s spreading about the school at this very moment. Now? You pick NOW, to fight with Theodore Nott?”

Draco turned away and sneered toward the shelves. “I didn’t pick a fight with him, he picked one with me. I know the rules.”

Severus pinched his nose. “You do not know the rules, you brat, not anymore.” Draco turned back to give him a look and Severus sneered. “This is war now Draco. You and all of your little Slytherin friends are a part of it. You’ve been groomed to fight for the Dark Lord since you were  _ born _ .”

Draco wanted to look away from the intense look in Severus’s black eyes, but found that he couldn’t. Severus continued anyway, “Every last one of you will come face to face with the Dark Lord. Will come face to face with the biggest decision of your lives in the next year or so. As Slytherin purebloods your choices are limited, Draco. Half of you might end up as bodies on the floor. I told you at the end of last year that your choices will have life or death consequences. Is this the decision you’re willing to stake your life on?”

Draco abruptly found himself remembering what it was like before Hogwarts. Sharing mocking looks with Pansy over their textbooks in the library behind their tutor’s back. Practicing Quidditch behind the manor and laughing when Nott fell off. Goading Crabbe and Goyle into playing in the dungeons. Hiding under a table at a ball, all five of them; Pansy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and him, plotting to try and steal as many sweets as they could. 

But there were other moments too. 

Crabbe crouched down in the garden, eight years old, setting the ants on fire with the magic that came to children, turning to Draco with a bright smile. “Look what I can do! Dad said he’s proud! All the family is good with fire, look!”

Draco, ten, picking up the beaters bat out of their storage shed. “I want to take a turn as beater, Greg, why don’t you play chaser?”

Goyle snatching the bat out of Draco’s hands. “No. I have to play beater.”

Draco stomped his foot. “But you’re always beater!”

Goyle glared back. “My father said it’s the strongest position and I need to be the strongest!

Draco the winter before Hogwarts, sneaking into Pansy’s room before the winter ball to see her crying in front of a huge mirror. “What are you crying for?”

Pansy turned with a snarl and ripped the necklace she was wearing off and threw it across the room. Draco backed away a step so his back was against the door. “No matter what I do I can’t get my hair right!” Pansy fell to her knees and sobbed into her hands. 

Pansy’s hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. Pins were falling out of it now where she and possibly others had started pinning it up. Draco rolled his eyes and came up behind her and started picking the pins out. “Just leave it down. I don’t see why you don’t just cut it short, you’re always complaining when it’s long.”

Pansy just sobbed again. “Mother said it’s not elegant enough plain and that I’ll never attract a rich, pureblood husband if I’m not pretty enough.”

Draco shrugged. “You know our parents have been talking about us getting married. I don’t care if you cut your hair.”

Pansy sniffled and peaked up at him through her hands. “Really?”

Draco scoffed. “Really.”

He remembered one fencing class when he was nine, he was paired with Nott. Nott had been off that whole day, and when they fought, he’d been overly aggressive, not thinking about his moves, the complete opposite of what Draco was used to. Draco won handily, way more easily than usual. Nott and him were usually more evenly matched, Draco having to work hard for his wins.

Nott had thrown his equipment down and stormed off, not listening to the instructor. Draco had followed him until they both made it outside. “Hey! Hey! What are you doing Theo?!”

He remembered how Nott had whipped around, frustration and anger transforming his face. “My father says I’m weak. Good at studies, but not much else, a weak stomach.”

Draco had looked at him, shocked. “But-”

Nott cut him off, yelling. “I’m not weak! I’m not! I’ll show him! I’ll show everyone!”

It was dark already, but Nott still turned and stomped off into the woods on one side of his property. Draco had stared after him for a moment before he went back inside, his mind in a whirl.  _ If you’re weak, then what am I? _

Draco remembered watching as they all became copies of their parents because it was a less painful alternative to fighting it. He remembered getting into Slytherin and looking around and realizing that all of them were emulating someone. Pansy and Blaise weaponizing their looks like their mothers, Crabbe and Goyle following Draco because their fathers took orders from people. Draco and Nott burying themselves in books and studying because they were expected to know everything, to give orders and be strong. 

But Draco had known. Had known the moment he’d met Potter that things would be different.  _ He _ was different. Potter hadn’t been emulating anyone. He was his own person. And ever since Draco had been reeling. 

He’d looked around and realized he was different. 

He and Nott had been growing apart since Hogwarts started. 

Blaise must have gone through the same thing at some point. Must have looked around and realized he was different. And he may not have been around Draco since forever, but he had seen Draco slowly changing and liked what he saw. Had, if Pansy was right, even fallen in love with what he was becoming. 

Draco shook himself out of his thoughts and met Severus’s eyes again. Words from his fights with both Blaise and Nott coming to mind. 

_ “...your little pet faggot…” “Hurting ME of all people.” _

_ “What about the people who care about you! Making us sit back and watch you do this!” _

The difference was stark. Draco found himself more sure of himself than he’d been since the fight with Blaise, his feet finding solid ground. “Yes. I don’t care what kind of ally Nott could be. I’ve made new alliances. Alliances that care about me. I’ll fight for that if I have to.”

Severus sighed. “Fine. If you’ve made your decision I’ll support it. Just as long as you don’t become a casualty. Get out. I have potions to grade.”

Draco smiled as he turned and left the office.

When he got back to the common room he was quick to pull Crabbe and Goyle up to the dorm. They both followed him in confusion. He said nothing as he dug a jar out of his trunk. When he found it he was quick to make them sit on Crabbe’s bed next to Draco’s.

“Alright Goyle, give me your hand.”

Goyle raised an eyebrow. “Why? What is that stuff?”

Draco sighed dramatically. “It’s just stuff for bruises. I’m sure you’ve got some on your hand from earlier.” The dumbass went unsaid.

Goyle went to hold out his hand, but Crabbe stopped him. “You first.”

Draco gave him an incredulous look. “I don’t have any bruises.”

Crabbe squinted at him in a bad attempt at a glare probably. “Show us what you’ve been hiding under that bandage. We know that whatever it is Umbridge did it, and it was bad enough to get her arrested.”

Draco grimaced. “Why do you want to see it then, if you know all that?”

Goyle shook off Crabbe’s hand. “We want to see what we caused.”

The simple words seemed to cut right through Draco and changed the whole atmosphere in the room. “Fine.”

Draco took off the bandage slowly, but thrust it across the gap between the beds with speed. 

Goyle reached out and ran a finger over the words as if seeing if they were real. “Is it ever going to go away?”

Draco swallowed heavily. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

Crabbe was now glaring down at Draco’s hand. “How did she do it?”

Draco looked at his hand and saw fresh blood on parchment. “She didn’t. She made me carve it into my own hand with a Black Quill.”

Crabbe hissed through his teeth, and Goyle was quick to start babbling. “We’re sorry, really sor-”

Draco’s head shot up from his hand to the two of them, and he glared his best glare. “Stop. You already apologized. I don’t want to hear it. Give me your damn hand.”

Goyle slammed his mouth shut and held out his hand, which sure enough, had bruises blossoming around his knuckles. Draco clucked his tongue and dipped his fingers into the jar to apply the cream. 

After the first couple knuckles, Draco started calming down. “I’m going to tell you something now, and you need to listen to me. We are at war now. Every decision is a life or death choice. You can’t make a choice lightly anymore. You made a bad one this time. Luckily scarring my hand was the worst that happened.”

Draco looked up from Goyle’s hand to meet their eyes. Both nodded, dark looks on their faces. 

When Greg and Vince went back down to the common room Draco didn’t put his bandage back on. 

When he woke up the next morning he still didn’t put it on.

  
  


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Draco still hadn’t told Luna, or even Pansy, that he had managed to convince Potter to let him in on his club meetings by the time said meeting came around. As far as they knew it was business as usual. Even as Draco stood outside the door, he himself could hardly believe he would be allowed to go in. Draco was sure the door was of a normal size and appearance to what it usually was, but this time it seemed to loom in front of him, more akin to a wall than a door he was expected to use. 

He wasn’t sure he would have even been able to open it at all, if Potter himself didn’t slip out of it. Even then Draco only stared at him. Potter rolled his eyes and pulled him off down the hallway a bit, until they reached the alcove that Potter first caught him in. “You’re late. I told you to be here ten minutes ago.”

Draco ripped his wrist out of Potter’s grip and rolled his own eyes. “And just how many people would I have run into in the hallway ten minutes ago Potter? I told you I’ve been watching the door. I’ve got the time down perfectly to avoid everyone.”

Potter ran a hand through his nest of hair nervously. “Well now you're going to be walking into a room full of people who hate you, when they’re all gathered together and ready to start firing spells.”

Draco grit his teeth and crossed his arms. “I’ll have you know that not all of them hate me. And I expect you to stand up for me. I didn’t come to you first for fun, Potter.”

Potter glared. “I didn’t forget about your little spy friend, Malfoy. And if you want me to protect you, you’d best be giving me a good reason to.”

Draco let himself imagine Potter standing in front of him with the sword of Gryffindor, glaring out at the nameless hordes, just the two of them against the world, Potter’s burning glare aimed away from him, a drop of sweat juuust trickling down the side of Potter’s neck. Before he shook himself out of it. He liked to think he kept the bitterness at how impossible that whole scenario was out of his voice. “I don’t expect you to protect me, Potter.”

Potter’s glare was quick to turn into confusion before he seemingly gave up. “Whatever, Malfoy. Let’s just get this over with.”

Potter pushed past Draco and made a beeline for the door. Draco was quick to follow after him, not wanting to be far enough behind Potter to have to enter on his own. 

As soon as the door opened Draco could see every eye in the room turn towards them, followed quickly by whispers and pointing that built into a loud cacophony. Draco backed away, putting his back against the closed door, but he didn’t dare pull out his wand in case it was seen as an act of aggression. 

Potter didn’t move a step. He calmly reached into his own back pocket and drew his wand, pointing it into the air. “Hey! Listen!”

Draco didn’t see him cast a spell, but he must have, because all noise petered out of the room. 

Now that Draco wasn’t distracted by more than two dozen people shouting, he could see that Granger and Weasley had pushed their way to the front and were looking aghast at Potter. Draco could only conclude that he hadn’t even told  _ them  _ about his joining and was suddenly much more nervous. 

“Listen. Malfoy asked to join our group,” Potter looked around at everyone like he was trying to make eye contact with each individual, “ and I agreed. He already knew about us, and he’s the one that got rid of Umbridge. So I’m asking you all to please accept him.”

Several noises of shock rang out, but Draco only had eyes for Potter. He never thought he’d hear Potter say anything positive about him, and yet, here he was asking his whole group to accept him. The words seemed to be ringing in Draco’s ears. 

He was quickly brought back to attention by the voice of one of the Weasley twins. They were leaning against the wall to the right of the door, seemingly casually, but the look they were giving Draco now was anything but casual. “Did you really get rid of Umbridge?” “How’d you do it?”

Potter turned to look at Draco at the question. Draco looked down at his left hand, he’d taken the bandage off already, but now instead of the showy confidence he’d expected to draw on in this moment, he felt reluctant and shaky. He drew in a deep breath and looked back up toward the twins, only to get a face full of blonde hair. 

Draco’s deep breath was pushed back out of him by the force of Luna’s crushing hug. “Draco! You’re here. You’re really inside!”

Draco saw a quick impression of wide eyes and grim looks from the crowd before whipping toward Potter. Draco didn’t feel reassured by Luna’s hug, instead he felt his low level anxiety rising into a true panic. He’d never intended to reveal to Potter just who his friend on the inside was. He didn’t want Luna to face scrutiny from this group of people she’d just begun seeing as friends. 

He whispered low and fast into her ear, fully aware that Potter could probably hear him, but hoping he wouldn’t say anything. “Luna, think about what you’re doing, this could hurt you. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Luna only pulled back with a smile. “I’m so glad you decided to come, cousin.”

Draco gaped at her a little, but her eyes held nothing but joy, and maybe pride, and Draco trusted her judgement enough to close his mouth and smile shakily back, he was glad to have her on his side in this. 

Potter cut across both of them, shock ringing loud and clear through his voice. “It’s Luna!? Luna’s the friend you had in the group!?”

Luna did a half turn and looped her arm through Draco’s right, like he was escorting her somewhere, so that she was standing beside him facing the rest of the group. “We’re cousins actually! My mother was a Malfoy. But yes, I did tell Draco about your group after Hermione invited me. He’s the one who really recommended all those things for the first meeting, like having it at the Three Broomsticks and not signing our full names places. He’s been protecting us this whole time, but he told me I couldn’t tell anyone.”

Draco grimaced and looked away. He hadn’t decided how much to admit about what he’d been doing or how long he’d known. He couldn’t keep looking at Potter’s surprised face, like he’d never believed Draco capable of doing anything good. 

“What’s your plan, ferret?!” Weasley stomped forward, drawing Draco’s attention. His face was red and his wand was out, but he didn’t move closer to Draco and Luna than Potter was. Draco wondered if Luna had grabbed his arm as a sort of shield. 

Draco answered in his most drawling voice. “What plan, Weasel king? I could have exposed your group ages ago and yet I didn’t.”

Weasley glared. “If you exposed us you’d lose all your leverage. If you haven’t yet, you must want something from us.”

Draco felt like stomping his own feet in return. He was  _ here _ , it should be obvious what he wanted from the group. He shouldn’t have to spell it out. He opened his mouth to berate Weasley on his intelligence, but was cut off. 

Granger had put a hand on Weasley’s shoulder to stop him, but she was staring at Draco with a creepily vacant look on her face. When she talked it was with no emotion. “Seamus. What was it you said when you joined the group?”

The chatter that had been slowly building during Weasley’s tirade faded again into nothing as every eye turned to Finnigan. His neck was red and he exhaled slowly through his teeth before he answered. “Er, I said that I’d be stupid to not believe Harry what with even the kids of Death Eaters like Malfoy walking around bragging about how you-know-who’s back. I’m not wrong! Malfoy threatened me with it!”

Granger didn’t move from her prolonged stare at Draco so Draco kept looking at her. “You threatened him like that on purpose so he’d join?”

Draco scowled. “He kept  _ saying _ he didn’t believe Potter, but he was always looking in on the group. At the pub, in the hall outside the room. He was a loose cannon. Dangerous.”

Granger nodded. “And Marietta?” 

“Luna told me she was unsure. My father knows her father. I just needed to apply the right pressure.”

Granger took on a look of consternation. “If you were looking out for us so thoroughly, how did anything get out to Umbridge?”

Draco tsked. “Crabbe and Goyle. They heard too much when I was…. Talking to Edgecombe. They thought they were helping when they ran to Umbridge. Fools.”

It was only then that Granger’s eyes widened in surprise at what she had figured out and Draco winced internally. Her eyes darted from his down to his left hand and back. Her voice became an emotional whisper in the shocked quiet of the room. “So when your plans fell through despite your best efforts you figured you needed to just get rid of Umbridge. You’d been spying on Harry so you knew what she was doing to him and got yourself detention…”

Draco looked away from Granger and over to the twins again, who were no longer casually leaning but now clearly paying attention. Draco spoke much louder than Granger when he answered, wanting to get this all out at once now that it’d been started. “That’s right. I got detention with her on purpose.” Draco held up his left hand now, squeezed into a fist so that the slightly raised scar stood out pink against his pale skin. “I got her to use her Black Quill on me so that I would have a scar to show for it. I told my parents and they contacted the Minister. Nothing to it really.”

Slowly the twins nodded. 

Draco did a slow scan of the room, taking mental notes on who he had gotten to his side with that. The twins were not going to put up a fight now and they were integral members as well as the biggest threat in the room. The Weaselette was standing near them with her arms crossed and her lips pursed, but Draco knew she was on his side by default thanks to their truce over Luna. Another powerful ally. 

He’d gotten Thomas as well, first by showing support for Blaise in CoMC, somehow, and now firmly by revealing he’d gotten Finnigan to join the group in a way that Thomas himself had failed at. Finnigan wouldn’t be able to say anything when he was only there thanks to Draco. Brown and the Gryffindor Patil wouldn’t say anything too badly against him because of that little bombshell as well, Brown having been a loud skeptic before joining herself.

Thanks to Potter vouching for him neither of the Creevey brothers would fight, they’d fall all over themselves doing what Potter wanted. Even now they were staring in fascination. Jordan would follow the Twins probably. The Hufflepuffs were taken as soon as Draco had shown off his injury, the saps. With the exception of Smith of course. Corner, Boot, Goldstein, and the Ravenclaw Patil should be easily swayed as well: Patil by her sister, Corner by Weaselette, and Goldstein perhaps by Luna. But also because Slytherin and Ravenclaw were mostly fine with each other, Ravenclaw seeing less of Slytherin’s bad side. 

On the other hand, Potter’s Quidditch friends Johnson, Spinnet, and Bell didn’t look convinced. Chang was practically trying to murder him with her eyes since Edgecombe came up. Bones looked suspicious, probably having heard too much about his family from her aunt, and Longbottom of all people still looked about to pull a wand on him.

That wasn’t even mentioning Granger or Weasley. Weasley was still flushed, seemingly stubborn as a wall. And while Granger had figured out his plots, she didn’t look decided on anything. It didn’t make them friends. He knew full well how much of his bullying had been towards her. 

Potter cleared his throat awkwardly to get everyone’s attention. “I figured we’d have a vote. He’ll have to sign the parchment now either way, but I’m not comfortable making this decision on my own. All in favor, raise your hands.”

Luna’s hand shot up straight away. Draco made eye contact over her head again with a grim-faced Potter as his hand went up more slowly. It took several long seconds after that before more hands went up, but they did. In the end it shook out almost exactly as Draco thought it would. Despite Weasley crossing his arms defiantly and Granger biting her lip, but not raising her hand, Draco felt a bit of hope rise up in his chest. About twice the amount of hands were raised as not. 

Draco didn’t get to feel hopeful for very long though. Smith looked around wildly from the back of the group and started laughing. “Really!? Really? We’re going to let Malfoy join? I bet half of you were planning on using some of the stuff we’ve learnt here AGAINST Malfoy and his Slytherins. And what about those of us who don’t want him involved, huh? We’re being forced to trust him. He should give us something in return.”

There were mumbles all around, as everyone slowly put their hands down. 

Longbottom spoke for the first time, a dark look in his eyes. “Why do you want to join anyway, Malfoy? Does this mean you don’t want to be a Death Eater anymore?”

Draco grit his teeth and glared off to the side. “It’s not always a matter of  _ want _ , Longbottom. Everything is pushing me in a certain direction.” Draco abruptly snapped back to face him, unwilling to not own this. “What I  _ want _ is a choice. I’m not sure I fit in with  _ either  _ side.”

Draco saw a few sympathetic faces, but Smith still sneered at him. “Oh boo-hoo, someone doesn’t want to be a daddy’s boy anymore. That doesn’t change the situation.”

Draco practically snarled. “Of course it does, you imbecile! My being here is the best blackmail any of you could have! If I went to anybody and told them what you were doing, I’d be turning myself in too. Once I sign that parchment I’ve thrown myself in with you.” Draco glared around at everyone in determination. “You should know that I’ll do everything in my power to protect myself, if no one else. You’ve just listened to the lengths I’d go to.”

Potter cleared his throat. “We took a formal vote, Smith. He’s one of us now.”

Draco froze as a chill ran down his spine at those words.

Granger had gotten the parchment while Draco had been distracted. When he turned back she was holding a clipboard with the parchment on it and a quill under his nose. Luna let go and stepped away so he could take both things. 

He read the top of the parchment first and barely kept himself from scoffing out loud, but he was quick to sign his initials with a flourish. 

When he handed them back to Granger, Luna beamed at him. “Welcome to Dumbledore’s Army, Draco.”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once all the disruption of Draco’s appearance had died down, the meeting was more than half over and Potter had set them all to review. Luna didn’t move from his side when the others spread out and paired off, so Draco figured he at least had a partner. He saw the Weaselette huff at them before heading over to pair with Neville, making Draco think he’d stolen her usual partner. 

Draco turned and raised an eyebrow at Luna. “So. I haven’t been here, what spell do you want to review?”

Luna bit her lip in thought. “We were working on Incendio last week, I’m not sure I’ve gotten the hang of it yet.”

Draco gave a sardonic half-smile. “I’m a pretty good hand at that already with the dungeons being so damp. That does give me an idea though. I’ve had to get quite good at the flame-freezing charm since I share a dorm with Vincent. It might be fun to see how fast I can cast it when you shoot fire at me. What do you say?”

Luna was quick to agree, but the practice didn’t quite turn out the way Draco had envisioned. Luna really was still struggling, she usually produced flames, but they were either generally weak or simply didn’t have the range to reach Draco standing about two meters away. 

He tried to keep himself focused anyway, freezing all the more promising jets, but he found himself easily distracted. He couldn’t keep his eyes from following Potter around the room. Draco had never taken Potter to be a good teacher, or even a very patient person, but the way he would walk around gently correcting people, or giving them the encouragement they needed, proved Draco to be mistaken. 

Potter avoided him and Luna until the very end, clearly not wanting to come over. Draco forced himself not to stare when he saw Potter watching. After he saw Luna try twice with little success he finally addressed her. “Luna, can I ask, er, what is it you’re thinking about when you cast that spell?”

Luna twiddled with her wand, clearly thinking about it before she answered. “Hmm. Mostly that I want to make fire. Maybe ‘I hope this works this time’ a bit.”

Potter ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even more. Draco pursed his lips at the sight. “I’ve found that it works a bit better if you think about what you want to burn than the fire itself. Er, I’m not sure why, but that’s what I’ve found.”

Luna moved her wide-eyed stare up from her wand to Potter. “But I don’t actually want to light Draco on fire. I don’t want to hurt him.”

Potter shot a probing look over at Draco. Draco scowled back on principle, but didn’t say anything; Potter looked him over in thought. “You could think about lighting his robes on fire then. Even if they catch he can probably put them out alright. It’s not usually a spell you’re shooting at people anyway.”

Luna smiled brilliantly. “That’s a good idea Harry!”

Potter smiled in response, but his eyes didn’t leave Draco. Draco raised an eyebrow. Potter’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are  _ you  _ doing Malfoy?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m seeing if I can shoot a nonverbal flame-freezing charm at the flames fast enough for them to be cool when they hit me.”

“Nonverbal?”

Draco was surprised at Potter’s look of confusion. “Yes Potter, nonverbal. Starting sixth year almost all spells need to be done nonverbally. I assumed you knew that, considering the biggest advantage of using nonverbal spells is in dueling.”

Potter had a flush spreading up his neck that Draco found himself enjoying. “I guess it just… didn’t occur to me. And how’s this idea working out for you?”

Draco let out a sigh. “I don’t really know, Luna’s spells haven’t been quite strong enough to tell.” Draco shot Luna a look. “No offense, Luna, you told me you still needed practice with this one.”

Luna nodded, but her attention was back on her wand. 

Potter followed the exchange with his eyes. When he turned back to Draco he squared his shoulders. “Do you want me to give it a go?”

Draco gave him his best deadpan look, even as his heart skipped a beat at the offer. His voice drawling and sarcastic. “Do I want you to shoot fire at me? Do I look that stupid Potter? 

Potter’s face went completely red. Draco couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment, but it was satisfying either way. “Wha- What is that supposed to mean!? It’s not any more dangerous than having Luna do it!”

Draco gestured toward Luna. “I  _ trust _ Luna, Potter. Would you want me shooting fire at  _ you _ ?”

Potter’s mouth fell open even as he glared and Draco felt his own adrenaline rising at the promise of a fight Potter’s face brought. 

“I think I’m ready to try again now.”

Luna’s voice cut through the rising tension, Draco and Potter both turning to look at her. Potter was clearly still agitated, but he stepped out of the way and made a rough gesture that clearly said ‘fine, go ahead then’.

Draco surreptitiously took a breath to refocus. Luna looked more focused herself than she had earlier. Draco didn’t doubt for a second that it would work this time. He watched the tip of her wand as she made the movement for the spell. As soon as he saw the fire blossoming out of the tip, he was raising his own wand to cast, but the jet was too fast, and by the time he’d finished the hem of his robes was already on fire. 

He scowled as he put out the now cool flames. Thankfully his robes were only slightly damaged, meaning the fire hadn’t been touching him very long before his spell had caught up to it.

When he looked up, Potter was congratulating Luna, who was looking between Potter and Draco with concern. Draco huffed. “Yes, yes, congratulations Luna. Clearly I need more work on my end.”

Potter turned from Luna to him. “You’re going to keep trying? I don’t see why this is better than a shielding charm.”

Draco frowned as he thought about how to explain it. “It’s not better in this case. A decent Protego would be fine against a basic Incendio. But the shield charm has to be equal or greater to the spell cast against it. You’d need to put a lot more power into a shield charm against a stronger or darker fire spell than you’d need to put into a simple flame-freezing charm.”

Potter was now clearly concentrating on what Draco was saying, he took another step toward him. “Would a charm that simple still even work against a stronger flame spell? Wouldn’t you also need to put more power behind the freezing charm the stronger the flame?”

“You shouldn’t have to. A shielding charm puts up a hard border, so it’s your magic against your opponent, but the freezing charm doesn’t stop their spell at all, it doesn’t even do anything to the fire being created. It only changes the fire after it’s in existence. So it’d work more like a collaboration.” 

Draco was forced from his thoughts at the sight of a smile actually spreading across Potter’s face. “That’s brilliant! If you can figure out how to make it more reliable that would be a real advantage for younger or weaker people in a duel.”

Draco felt himself blushing and looked away. Only to see that half the group was now looking at him and Potter again. “I hope for your sake, Potter, you didn’t just imply I was weak.”

Draco crossed his arms, but peeked back at Potter from the corner of his eye. Potter rolled his own eyes and huffed. “I would never, Malfoy. I think it’s time to wrap up anyway.”

Even though Potter sounded exasperated Draco still found himself smiling a crooked half smile at the words themselves. At least until he looked straight ahead and met the gobsmacked faces of Granger and Weasley looking back at him. 

Thankfully Luna took that moment to walk in front of him and break the eye contact.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


The room emptied at a steady rate, small groups of two and three leaving at a time. Draco waited for his turn next to Luna, always next to Luna since he stepped inside. Luna was still talking about various flame spells, but Draco was watching Potter again as he pored over a piece of parchment next to the door, gesturing people out. 

He was so focused on trying to get a peek of what Potter was looking at he barely noticed how few people were left, or felt Luna’s tap on his arm. When he did notice the tap he was slow to turn and meet Luna’s eyes. Luna smiled softly at him. “I wouldn’t mind if you stayed and talked to him. I can join Anthony and Terry.”

Draco felt himself flush. “Why would I want to talk to Potter? I always walk you back to your common room after meetings.”

Goldstein must have heard the end of the conversation from where he was standing a bit behind Luna, because he was quick to interject. “Hey, it’s fine! I don’t mind Luna joining us. We’ll take care of your cousin.”

Draco grimaced, still flushing. “Fine, but you’d better!”

To Draco’s surprise, Goldstein smiled at his response. “Of course! I owe her, I can’t let anything happen to her.” Goldstein turned to Luna and with a grin, even held his arm out for her like Draco usually did. “Our turn’s coming up, let’s go get ready.”

Luna turned away from Goldstein to fling her arms around Draco’s neck one more time, but she didn’t hang on for long, not giving Draco time to respond before she was turning and joining Goldstein. Even Boot set a hand on Luna’s shoulder for a second in greeting before they were ushered out the door. 

The whole thing left Draco baffled. He never did get around to asking how Luna had convinced Goldstein to bring her down to the dungeons that one time, and now it seemed they were friends? He really would need to remember to ask her about it. Surely that’d be the type of story that needed to be told in person.

The group containing Goldstein, Boot, and Luna was the last group to leave before it was just Draco and the Golden Trio.

They stood on practically opposite sides of the room and just looked at each other, the air heavy with tension. Draco took a deep breath before stepping closer to the three of them. Weasley crossed his arms and glared, clearly unwilling to engage with him. Granger cleared her throat before Draco could say anything himself. 

“I heard your conversation about the flame-freezing charm. It sounds like it could have interesting applications. And I appreciate what you’ve done for our group already, even if I can’t say I like you personally.” Granger bit her lip again and Draco opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of what, before Granger was reaching into her pocket and grabbing something, holding it out in an outstretched hand. 

Draco took it and saw that it looked like a galleon. But if what Luna said was true… 

“It’s Marietta’s communication galleon.” Draco’s head whipped back up to look at Granger. “I didn’t expect us to have any more members after Seamus so I didn’t have any extra galleons, but I felt bad about throwing away Marietta’s.” Granger looked down briefly and Draco wondered if she’d hoped their lost member might return if she kept the galleon. He didn’t think Granger and Edgecombe were close, maybe she thought of Edgecombe’s loss as a personal failure. 

She was quick to look back up, determination lighting up her gaze when she seemed to realize that Draco had seen her moment of regret. “The numbers on them can change to show a message, usually a date and time for the next meeting. I’ve used a Protean charm on them so if one is changed they’ll all change.”

Draco looked from Granger down to the galleon in his hand and back. His hand closed over the coin as he pocketed it. He thought about those bullies that had pushed Luna the other day, how her nose had bled and how she’d winced at her ankle and how she’d smiled at Draco through the blood. He remembered the first time he’d called Granger a mudblood and how confused she’d seemed. How Granger had snapped and slapped him in third year.

“Thank you, Granger.” If Luna’s bullies came to him and asked him for forgiveness, for help, could he give it to them? He wasn’t sure he’d manage. “I can’t promise to be nice to you outside this room. Can’t even promise to be nice to Luna in person outside of it. It’s too dangerous for my position. But I-”

Granger seemed to be more and more shocked as he went on. Draco’s eyes drifted as he tried to find the words, seeing both Potter and Weasley looking surprised as well. As Draco watched though, Potter’s look of surprise faded into a more neutral look and he met Draco’s eyes. Nodded. 

Draco consciously dragged his eyes back to Granger, standing up straighter to look her head-on. “What I’m trying to say is that since becoming friends with Luna I’ve realized I might like to be a better person. Seeing how people treat her, how Theo treats Blaise, I don’t want to be like them anymore. I’m sorry I was ever like that, and that I might need to be like that in the future.”

Weasley took a step closer to Granger as she considered him, but Granger held out her arm to keep him from coming too close. “Malfoy. Do you remember when we were 12, when you called me a mudblood for the first time?” Draco nodded reluctantly. “Before then I never knew I was any different from any of the other students here. I didn’t know that even if I wasn’t weird for wanting to spend all my time in books, that some people would still hate me, just for who my parents are. For the blood that runs through my veins. Dirty blood. I’m not sure I can ever forgive you for that. For being the one to open my eyes.”

Draco steeled himself against his emotions brought on by her words and nodded stiffly in acceptance of her decision. “Of course, I wouldn’t have expected-”

Granger cut him off. “However. I can see you’re making an effort. You’ve already been invaluable to this group that means a lot to me. I can see you actively making better choices already, and you’ve apologized, which I never believed you would or could do. So. As long as you continue, I’ll try. In the meantime...” 

Granger held out her hand and Draco stared at it for several seconds, like an idiot, before he realized she was holding it out to shake. Just as she seemed about to drop it, the slight smile she had been wearing dropping as well, Draco reached out and took it. 

“I look forward to working with you. I’d be happy to hear any ideas you have in the future.” Granger’s smile returned and Draco found himself smiling back. 

“Likewise.”

Potter made a noise to the right and Draco looked over as he let go of Granger’s hand to raise an eyebrow at him. He rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry, but this is pretty scary in hindsight. You two are top of the year, I don’t know if I want to imagine what it would be like if you worked together.”

Weasley scoffed. “I still don’t trust him. I don’t care what he can do for Dumbledore’s Army, he’s just as likely to bring everything crashing down around him.”

Draco smirked at him. “Well, Weasley, you’ll just have to stay on my good side then.”

“I’m gonna stay on all your sides, I’m gonna watch you like a hawk. You can bet your ass I’m going to be the one to catch you when you mess up.” Weasley glared, his eyes blazing blue fire.

“I’ll be here Weasley.” Draco crossed his arms, resolute.

Weasley huffed and threw his arms up in exasperation. “Come on Hermione, it’s late and I’m done being around the ferret.”

Weasley stomped his way to the door and Granger gave Draco a nod before following, her voice fading as they walked through the door. “Really Ron, you didn’t even let Harry check the map before slamming your way out here, you’re quite lucky we’re prefects…”

Draco and Harry made eye contact again as they listened together to the other’s fading footsteps. “Are you not going with them?”

Potter actually smiled a bit. “Nah, they’re prefects, like Hermione said. If they’re caught together it’s fine, but if I’m caught with them any teacher would be suspicious.”

Draco shrugged. “Fair enough. What’s this about a map?”

Potter held up the piece of parchment he was holding a little higher. “It’s a map of Hogwarts. It shows where everyone is inside the castle, so I can check the hallway outside is clear before people leave.”

“That sounds useful.” Draco looked away and saw Potter shift awkwardly out of the corner of his eye as the conversation dropped. They were still standing half a room away from each other. 

“You did-”

“Why didn’t you-”

Draco sighed as they both stopped talking. Draco couldn’t help getting mad at himself for how he was acting, everything about this was ridiculous. He finally walked all the way over and leaned his back on the door next to where Potter was standing, meeting Potter’s eyes the whole way. 

Draco’s movement seemed to have shut his mouth, so Draco spoke first. “Why didn’t you tell your friends you’d invited me?”

One side of Potter’s mouth quirked up. “I’m not sure invite is the right word for what happened. Obviously they’d have talked me out of it if I’d told them.”

Draco gave him a look. “That would have been the sensible thing, Potter.”

Potter shrugged one shoulder, still half-smiling. “I don’t know, I think it went pretty well.”

Draco sneered. “Smith sure is something, and Weasley’s going to be stalking me now.”

Potter’s smile melted off at Draco’s comment. “Smith is an asshole, but Ron isn’t wrong for not trusting you. It’s… Strange that you’ve seemed to change so much in such a short amount of time.”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at the floor. His voice was soft when he spoke. “I don’t think I’ve changed that much, Potter. Not really.”

Draco found he was suddenly looking at Potter’s shoe. When he looked up Potter had stepped in front of him, almost near enough to touch, his map gone from his hands. When their eyes met again it was all Draco could do not to reach out. Even if it was just to touch his shoulder, what Draco wouldn’t give to cross that gap, to feel that this was real. He’d really made it here. Draco wasn’t sure what was going on with the tension passing between them, but he could feel it in his very soul.

“I don’t understand you Malfoy.” Potter’s voice said, but his eyes said he saw all of him. 

Draco quirked his own half-smile. Both of their voices were still quiet. “That makes two of us, Potter.”

Then Draco stopped breathing for a second as Potter reached out and put his hand on Draco’s upper arm. “Come on. It’s getting late, we should leave.”

Draco couldn’t seem to find his voice, so he nodded in agreement and when Potter removed his hand, he moved aside so they could get out the door. It was only as they were turning separate ways in the hallway that Draco found it again, calling out to Potter’s turned back. “You know Potter, I don’t know who named your group, but it certainly isn’t Dumbledore’s army.”

Potter turned around and grinned. “Why not?”

Draco didn’t know what sort of dopey expression crossed his face, but he couldn’t help it. This boy. “Because it’s yours, idiot!”

Potter flipped him off and turned back around to leave. “No it’s not!”

When Draco was sure he wasn’t going to turn around again he let himself smile, turning himself to head down to the dungeons. 

  
  



End file.
